Magic Words
by PhantomTigre
Summary: Hermione and Ginny grow closer as they share their thoughts in written words, Hermione is recovering from a traumatic break-up with Ron and Ginny is struggling to hold her recent marriage to Harry together. Hermione and Ginny f/f slash!
1. The Wedding

**A/N: Hey everyone, finally got this idea into writing. Snowbear is coauthor on this story, please check out some of her other stories as well as ones I've coauthored with her that she posted. Also I promise that you will get some steamy Hermione/Ginny scenes by at least Chapter 6 (as long as you share this story with all your friends and make them read it too!) Ha ha jk, don't worry I'll try to post regularly regardless. **

"Do you belive in love at first sight? That you could meet someone, or just, across a room, and with that one glance you could look into their eyes and see their soul? Do you believe that could happen?" -Rachel, Imagine Me and You

OOO

Ginny stood at the end of the aisle, a smile on her face as she gazed at the two people waiting at the other end. One was dark haired, a pair of glasses perched upon his nose. He was grinning nervously, and reached up one hand to flatten his hair down again. The red headed man standing beside him grabbed his arm and pulled it back down, muttering something out of the corner of his mouth that Ginny couldn't hear.

Harry and Ron. One groom, one best man, and both she loved. After everything that they had gone through, now they finally got to live happily ever after. It was four years since Harry's great defeat of Lord Voldemort, and it seemed at once very long ago, and also like it had just happened. It felt long ago because of how different she felt from her sixteen year old self. She was now twenty years old and Hogwarts was long past. She had spent a year traveling with Harry, and soon after returning to England had been hired by the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. In that time, she and Harry had grown so much closer, though she had and Ron had perhaps drifted apart a little. This was almost the only thing that shadowed this otherwise perfect day. That… and, Ginny glanced at her bridesmaids. Luna, looking dreamy as usual in yellow, Gwenog, Captain of Holyhead Harpies, looking odd in a dress, and Heather, another team member. The gaping absence of the only really important female friend of hers was the other shadow. But she refused to dwell on that, and so she turned to glanced at Arthur Weasley, standing beside her, puffing out his chest and positively strutting as they began to walk down the aisle. He was finally escorting his one daughter to the altar.

Ginny looked back down the aisle at Harry, now grinning foolishly at her. She couldn't help but grin back. Harry was her best friend and good for a shag as well. There didn't seem to be any reason to not get married and Ginny was happy that they would be spending the rest of their lives together. She and Harry were meant for eachother.

Then Ginny glanced to the left as her eye caught movement, and her step faltered and she had to stop herself from tripping. She met a pair of sharp brown eyes framed by bushy hair straining to be out of its hair tie. Hermione! Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't seen the woman in over a year, and seeing her now- it was like she'd forgotten what Hermione looked like. But then she was at the altar, and the priest was speaking, and there was Harry, and there was no time to wonder at the moment what Hermione was doing there.

OOO

Hermione sat at the bar, sipping some whiskey and soda and marveling at what it was like to be back in London. Water dripped from the fog that hovered in the outside night, so different from the dry African heat she had gotten used to. Seeing Ginny and Harry again was wonderful, though she seemed to have surprised Ginny walking down the aisle. Maybe she should have told them she was coming… but the idea of making Harry, Ron, and Ginny stress about the potential drama of throwing her and Ron together again after over a year had stopped her. Also, she wasn't sure she was going until the last minute, when she booked a port key from Johannesburg to London that very same morning of the wedding. And now here she was, after the wedding ceremony was over, alone in London, avoiding the celebrations because half the people there had red hair and would all be painfully aware of the fact that this could have been her wedding into their family.

She thought about how she'd met up with Harry and Ginny after the ceremony, both of them standing half entwined around each other, drunk on love and happiness and eager to be off on their honeymoon later that evening. Ginny managed to pull herself away from Harry to give Hermione a big hug, squeezing her hard.

"Are you back for good this time?" Ginny had asked her as she pulled away, looking radiantly happy and beautiful to Hermione.

"Yes," Hermione answered, then amended, "Well, for a while, anyway."

"I wasn't sure you were coming," Ginny said, "Did you just get to London today?"

"About an hour ago," Hermione had said with a laugh, picking at her travel-mussed hair.

After that they had talked about where Hermione was staying, how Africa had been, what she had been up to. Hermione gave them her wedding present, which was a journal that Hermione herself had the twin of. Anything written in one journal would immediately appear in the other, a simpler and less messy form of conversation than flooing or owling, and easier across international boundaries.

But then they were swept away in the tide of congratulations. Hermione hung around for a few hours, chatting with other old school friends like Neville and Luna. She tried to avoid the Weasleys, but ended up talking to George and Angelina for a bit without the topic of Ron coming up. There was no visible animosity, but she still caught a few awkward shifts in stance as she moved through the reception. In the end, avoiding him became too difficult, and she left quietly, apparating back to Diagon Alley to go back to her rooms in the Leaky Cauldron to unpack a bit, shower, and try to not think about Ron. Once the evening came around, she headed out into the mostly Muggle London, looking for a particular Wizard bar that she'd read about where she was almost positive she wouldn't see anyone she knew.

And that was where she sat now. At Bees n' Bees. She sat a little timidly at the bar- stealing curious glances around. She hadn't been entirely sure what to expect- she'd never much been a part of this community and it was only now, in her loneliness, that she purposely sought out this place. She caught herself taking mental notes of the place, examining the slant of the roof and the style of the sign before she'd forced herself to step inside, chiding herself for automatically examining the literary value of the bar, but still unable to stop herself.  
_Always the academic_, she told herself with a sigh in her mind and pushed through the door. It wasn't a 'gay bar' explicitly but it was as close to a hippie bar as one could get in the wizarding world and as such tended to attract that community.

She was thinking about going over and talking to an attractive woman sitting alone a few seats away, but she wasn't here to hook up with anyone, just to get away for a bit. Drink a bit. Be lonely. Hermione sighed, realizing she was moping. Just because she and Ron had broken up in a rather dramatic fashion shouldn't mean that she had to feel like an outsider at her two best friends' wedding! She drained the rest of her drink like a shot. Although, she conceded as she tried not to grimace at the sudden sear of alcohol down her throat, it was her choice to go off traveling alone for a year.

"Well well," a familiar voiced drawled, "Who do we have here? This can't be the same bushy-haired Granger I knew at Hogwarts?"

"Well, at least I'm not buck toothed anymore," Hermione turned around to snap, her slight tipiness allowing her to hide her surprise. Malfoy was the last person she wanted to see at the moment, and she certainly hadn't expected to find him _here_, not that it necessarily meant anything.

He raised his hands in defense and said, "Hey, sorry. I'm not trying to pick a fight. I'll just go pretend I never saw you here."

Hermione turned back in her seat and picked up her glass again, remembered it was empty, and then turned back to Malfoy. He was sauntering off, his slicked back blond hair glinting in the low lighting of the bar.

"Hey," she said, calling after him, "Malfoy."

He glanced back.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asked.

Malfoy shrugged, turned around, and came to sit down next to her. He glanced her up and down, then turned in his seat to lean his elbows on the bar and said, "So is this why you left Weasley so dramatically?"

"Hmm," Hermione frowned, "That's not really your business. But just for the record, no."

"So, what have you been up to these last few years?" Malfoy inquired, ordering a drink from the bartender.

"Not jumping right into the Ministry like Harry and Ron," Hermione said sardonically, "I actually find having NEWT's on my resume useful. Though I suppose I haven't really been using them. I've actually been writing. How about you?"

"A Malfoy needs neither NEWT's nor Ministry," he said, sipping the drink the bartender slid over to him, "I've been keeping up the Malfoy estate, restoring our good name." He absentmindedly dropped his left arm into his lap, off the bar.

Hermione mused that had they met in any other bar, she wouldn't be talking to Malfoy like they had been friends at Hogwarts. In any other bar, they might have exchanged nods, but they wouldn't be sharing a drink together. Instead, here at this bar, they were drawn together by an unexpected commonality.

"I read your book," Malfoy interrupted her thoughts, "The one that takes place in Africa."  
"Oh," Hermione mouthed the word, a wisp of air escaping her throat. That had been her most recent novel, it had only just been placed on bookshelves in Diagon Alley a month ago. Her first anthropological novel, second novel ever.

Hermione had started off her writing career as a journalist, just writing brief essays on current events for the Daily Prophet but had gradually started easing her way into other more widespread and international publications where she not only got to write news (something she actually found rather uninteresting) but also some of her own opinions. From opinions she'd moved to commenting on older works of writings (including little essays on the past seven years of Voldemort's resurrection and other odd bits of history) and had finally published an essay with a thesis all her own on House Elves. That had caught the eye of a publishing company in France and they'd granted her the money to write a book (a real book that might one day be in a library, _a library_, with her own name on it!) on intelligent magical creatures. It did _not_conclude that all house elves ought to be freed; after meeting more house elves than Dobby she had been forced to accept the reality that most did not want to be freed, but she did use the brave house elf as an example of the need for more interspecific communication.

Later, the grant offer for Hermione write an anthropological book about magical origins in Africa wasn't quite the kind of history she was interested in but it was a lifesaver for Hermione who had been looking into renting a dingy little apartment in Diagon Alley just to get out of her and Ron's cottage as quickly as possible. Her salary from the Daily Prophet for the 200 word current news block would barely cover it. She'd packed her bags in a day and let herself be whisked off by portkey to the magical community in Rustenburg, South Africa.

The bartender clonked two mugs down in front of her and Malfoy and Hermione dug out a few sickles to pay for them.

"Cheers," Malfoy said picking up the mug. Her Origins book had branched rather unexpectedly (or perhaps not) into the realm of wizarding blood and in the end she'd ferociously debunked the idea of muggles 'muddying' the blood of wizards. That Malfoy had read it, and didn't seem like he was about to launch into a criticism of it surprised her.

She thought of when she had last seen all the Malfoy's together- after the Battle of Hogwarts, huddled together like everyone else, just glad to be alive.

OOO

Ginny had never thought of herself as particularly close to Hermione, Hermione had always been Harry and her older brother's friend first and foremost. Friends certainly, but Ginny knew that that the threesome of Harry, Ron, and Hermione did not quite include her.

Yet... when Hermione had disappeared, well maybe disappeared was too strong a word, as she'd told those close to her she was leaving a few days before her departure, and sent periodic postcards, but when Hermione had left, it surprised Ginny to realize how much she missed her. Indeed, in that manner, it was like a disappearance. All of a sudden, Hermione was gone from their lives, and there was a hole, particularly around Ron. The only idea of what she was up to were the few words jotted on postcards, such as "_Enjoying Cape Town, Hippocampi very interesting and probably sentient."_

And now, she was back. For who knew how short or how long a period of time. It unsettled Ginny, that Hermione could just appear and disappear randomly from her life, it unsettled her to have Hermione pop up all of a sudden when least expected. It really wasn't fair of her to just show up all radiant and traveled at her wedding, wasn't fair of her to throw Ginny off balance like that.

Ginny tossed her over-robes carelessly onto a chair as she shut the door to her and Harry's house behind her. Hopping on one foot she pulled off her Quidditch boots and kicked them into a corner.

"You're home late," she heard Harry comment lightly from the kitchen. He was pouring some butterbeer into two cups.

"Yes, and I'm absolutely exhausted," Ginny replied, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, "I'm going to bed."

"No time even for a drink with your new husband?" Harry teased, stepping over to Ginny to reach one hand up towards her face.

"Sorry Harry," Ginny said, "I really just need to crash."

"You've been working too hard," Harry said, concern written over his face, "What's wrong?"

"Oh I don't know," Ginny sighed, "Maybe it's just Hermione being back, and Ron... and my whole family... Even after a year it's still so ridiculous... and crazy..."

"You're not still mad at her are you?" Harry said moving his hand down to take both of hers.

"No, of course not, I never really was..." Ginny trailed off, "Do you think Ron'll be okay?"

"I imagine so, but it's weird," Harry said, copying her sigh now, "For the first six years I knew them they struggled with liking each other and not being together, and when they finally did get together I thought it would be forever. Now they're apart, and it's like the three of us are... no longer the three of us."

"Well maybe now that she's back you can all make up," Ginny said, unable to keep the tension from her voice.

"You mean Ron and Hermione get back together?" Harry asked, mistaking the tension for stress about her brother.

"Well... that or at least you can all go back to being friends, just the three of you, like you were," Ginny suggested with a shrug, pulling her hands out of Harry's grasp and picking up the butterbeer he'd poured for her.

"Oh, it'll never be like that," Harry said with a tender smile, pulling Ginny close despite the butterbeer, "You're number one for me. If anything, it'll be the _four_ of us. Is this what this is about?"

Ginny felt a flush of pleasure at those words along with a twinge of guilt. How childish of her, to start feeling jealous of her husband, her friend, and her brother's relationship and to need such reassurances of Harry's affection.

"Maybe.. I don't know," Ginny said, feeling better now as she sipped her butterbeer, turning around in Harry's arms so she could both snuggle with him and drink at the same time. She leaned her head back against his shoulder.

"For some reason Hermione just showing up like this- its really thrown me for a loop," Ginny admitted softly, "And I don't know why."

"Well, time will tell," Harry said, "We'll all have to get used to having her around again. If she stays. Please don't be upset."

"I'm not upset! Its just intense... all she's been through and now she's back here, and writing books," Ginny said unable to keep her voice from rising a little, "And we're married now... would Hermione and Ron be married if she... if that all hadn't happened?"

Harry frowned, then pulled her close again, a small smile replacing the frown, "I don't think that's important, and I don't think you need to worry about Ron. And I promise that her being back will not change a single thing between you and I or between any of us."

"All right then," Ginny said, still feeling unsettled but deciding to leave it at that, "But I _am_ exhausted, so as soon as this butterbeer is down I'm going to bed."


	2. Grindewald

"I met this girl... but she's with someone else."  
"Does she love you?"  
"I don't know... no... yes... but it doesn't matter."  
"Oh... it's all that matters."

OOO

Hermione sat in the cheap apartment in Hogsmeade that she'd rented for the month- she had no idea how long she was staying and it was only this place that would let her rent on a month by month basis. She liked it, despite it being on the end of town that students didn't regularly frequent, and despite the rats in the walls that had taken two weeks of _Mr. Rodent's Rat Remover! Highest Quality Potions! _to encourage them to move elsewhere. She also liked that is was near Hogwarts. For all its associations with Lord Voldemort, she still saw Hogwarts as a place of wonder and joy and friendship. Although, staring up at it now, also made her feel a little bit lonely.  
Hermione thought about meeting with Malfoy at the bar in London after the wedding, and the conversation they had. It had actually been surprisingly nice. After Voldemort was defeated, school enmities hardly seemed important, but she never thought they'd actually be able to have a decent conversation.

Funny that he assumed that her presence there was an indication of why she'd left Ron. She supposed it made sense; most of the world, if they knew she'd broken up with him, didn't know why. But she'd never really considered herself lesbian. For the first part of her life, she was attracted to Ron, and a little to Krum or Lockhart. And then, while she was abroad... she found herself attracted to a new person, who had for a period of time turned her world upside down.  
But she'd explained none of this to Malfoy. Instead, their conversation had mostly steered clear of relationships, except for a few sentences.

"So what are you writing about now?" Malfoy had inquired curiously when Hermione had mentioned that she was thinking of staying for a while to do research for her next book. She was earning enough in royalties that she could afford to work on something of her own for a while.

"Grindelwald actually," Hermione had said with a smile, "Though it'll be more of a story than a historical account. I hope."

"Story?" Malfoy echoed, looking surprised, "I thought there wasn't anything to Grindelwald. Just another Dark Wizard right?"

"Well Professor Dumbledore was friends with him so there must be something to his character," Hermione had explained, "I want it to read like a novel. I want to write something that readers will sympathize with."

Malfoy laughed, and drained the rest of his drink, "Of course! Rita Skeeter hears that they were friends and assumes this means that Albus Dumbledore was a Dark Wizard... YOU on the other hand hear that and think Grindelwald must have not been so Dark after all!"

"Don't you think so?" Hermione asked, looking at Malfoy a little bit sharply.

"I mean, Grindelwald was obviously a Dark wizard..." Malfoy started, looking wary, but seemed to think about it, "But... you're right. I can't imagine that the Dumbledore we knew was a Dark wizard as a kid and then redeemed himself. It does seems slightly more likely that Grindelwald wasn't all evil."

"I don't want to write a fluffy book about how Grindewald was a poor misunderstood sod," Hermione interjected.

"Oh I don't expect you too," Malfoy quickly said, "As I said, I read your novels. Those had enough dark bits in them to make me realize your confrontations with the Dark Lord every year or two had their toll... if you don't mind me analyzing your character."

Hermione glanced at him and for a second they shared a moment of acknowledgement that _both_ their childhoods had been marred by that particular Dark Wizard. But then Malfoy looked away and the moment was gone. Hermione decided to just keep talking about her writing.

"I want to write a story that depicts him rightly as a Dark wizard but _also_ depicts as someone who was at least at some point in his life- likeable. Maybe even loveable," Hermione explained, "At first I'd thought about writing about Voldemort, it would be fascinating to really analyze _his_ character, but I didn't think Harry would be ready for something like that. Also it's really his story to tell. Maybe I can get him to reminisce for me someday. Maybe I can ghostwrite his story... "

"So why are you here all alone anyway? Potter and Weasley not hanging out with you anymore?" Malfoy asked, his usual sneer almost, but not quite, back in place.

"It's Harry and Ginny's wedding," Hermione confessed. Being a small wedding, the news hadn't exactly been blasted all over the wizarding world, but for some reason it surprised her that Malfoy didn't know.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her as he ordered another drink from the bartender.

"Ron was there," she said, "It was awkward. I wanted to go somewhere where I wouldn't run into anyone I knew."

Malfoy snorted into his new drink, "Sorry for ruining that plan!"

"No! Well, you don't really count, I don't think," Hermione said with a smile.

"Oh, gee, thanks," Malfoy said with sarcasm tinging his voice, "So you're not a velcro then?"

"Velcro?" Hermione echoed.

"Lesbian, dyke, gay, poofter, lemon, whatever you want to call it," Malfoy said with a shrug, "You like to get your leg over with girls?"

"Oh," Hermione said, a blush creeping across her cheeks as his vocabulary immediately made her feel awkward and self-conscious, "Erm, I don't really like to label myself like that..."

"I'll take that as a yes," Malfoy said, "For the record, I am. My mother tries to pretend I'm not, because she's still hoping I'll marry well and increase the Malfoy fortune but... as high standing a family as we are, I couldn't really hide it, and if I tried to, the media would jump all over it once they found out. If I'm open about it, no one cares."

Hermione found herself smiling at Malfoy's sudden rush of sharing. Should she be surprised? After the final battle, and all that had happened over their seventh year, she'd wondered if maybe he'd changed a little, and now she saw he had. Or was it just that they were both adults now? Probably a bit of both.

Hermione suddenly remembered a time in her second year where she and Ron had agreed that Malfoy was definitely gay. He was too pretty and his hair was too nice. He had a rich father. His clothes always matched. They decided he spent at least two hours in front of the mirror every morning. Ron was sure he wore eyeliner sometimes.

"So how _is_ the Malfoy name doing?" Hermione asked, "I've been abroad and haven't read a Daily Prophet in months."

With that they'd gotten into a discussion on the latest politics of the wizarding world, just barely managed to not really discuss Voldemort and Death Eaters and the fact that Lucius Malfoy had been one and was now serving the rest of his life in Azkaban. She'd left when a friend of Malfoy's showed up. They were clearly occasionally more than friends and she didn't want to be awkward again and it had been getting late anyway.

She hadn't gone to see Harry and Ginny since then. She told herself this was because they were on their Honeymoon (though she actually had no idea when they were taking their honeymoon or if they were traveling for it or not), but it was really because she didn't know quite what to say to them. She felt like she could no longer fit into their lives, happy as they were together, married, and probably going to start a family soon. She didn't think she could quite face them if Ginny became pregnant, not after what had happened with her and Ron.

That thought resulted in pang in the pit of her stomach. To think that she almost... Hermione shook the thought away. Lord- children, definitely not. Being back in England made all of her relationship with Ron come back close to the surface of her mind, making her thoughts swirl around crazily. This was why she had left in the first place.

Hermione shoved her books and old newspapers aside, the scraps of documentation she'd started collecting on Grindelwald. Beneath them, she saw the edge of her journal, the one she'd bought in Egypt. She hadn't really used it much at all though and it'd been mostly sitting neglected. Maybe now was the time to write in it. She flipped it open and scanned the few jotted notes on her travels. She'd planned for it to be just for things about her life, not for notes on her writing, she already had enough notebooks filled with story ideas and research. The entries only lasted for three weeks or so. It'd started off with a short narrative of the day she'd bought the journal, a few notes on the pyramids and camels, then an entry on her arrival in Greece. Maybe now was the time to write about something more personal than her travels. She almost laughed, she must be a true writer, mining her own past for story fodder.

She flipped the the next clean page and then looked around for a quill. Upon finding one, she opened a bottle of ink and dipped the end in, and then began to write.

_I'm back in England once again, now living in Hogsmeade. The return is always so quick, so sudden, and the country hits me with all its characteristic smells and sights... it makes me almost wish we witches and wizards didn't have portkeys and were limited to such 'low-speed' travels as airplanes, like muggles. Then at least I'd have a few hours to know that I am traveling, in which to adjust, to leave one country behind and ready myself for another. Instead, there is only the few hours of packing, of looking at the window at a once unfamiliar now so familiar as to be almost unnoticed landscape, and realizing that I don't know when I'll see it again. Then there is the portkey, a sudden lurch, and then I'm somewhere new, before I've barely even had a chance to really decide if this is where I want to go. Imagine the long wait of going to an airport, waiting in line for baggage, for security, for the plane to be ready. All that time to change one's mind! But for me, once the bags are packed it's almost too late. It almost makes me panic, the sudden finality of the choice, how it must be so. I suppose that is why I often don't make the choice to leave, that I don't plan it ahead. Because if that's what I did then I'd never go anywhere. Hmm, well I'm rambling now. _

_Anyway, the reason I'm back in England is for Harry and Ginny's wedding. Oh, how strange it is to write those words! To think... marriage. I suppose we're about that age. But I feel so far from marriage it's as if I'm thirteen again. Anyway, it was a small, sweet ceremony. Ginny looked wonderful, Harry awkward and almost surprised, as if after all these years he's never quite gotten over having Ginny to himself. Ron was there, as best man. And the rest of the Weasley's. I suppose its really Harry marrying into her family, rather than the other way around. Harry Weasley, ha. But I think she's taking his name. Ginny Potter. _

_Hmm. I tried to avoid Ron after the ceremony, but eventually it was too hard. I just... I can't quite bear to face him, especially not at a wedding. This year has been wonderful, traveling, but at the same time I wonder what it would have been like, if we would have been getting married now, if I hadn't decided to go through with the abortion. I mean... a small part of me, a large part me? Some part of me still loves him, is still in love with him but... but. Why must there always be a but? We wanted such different things out of life. I couldn't imagine settling down like that... but for Ron that would have been easy. Almost odd, me who still wanted the adventures to continue... And Lord, children at age 21? My parents would have been scandalized. No, I won't lie, they would have been supportive, _I _was scandalized by the thought. _

_I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I didn't have any morning sickness, nothing obvious like that. It was just... a general feeling of being off... a slight uncomfortableness and then I just had this sneaking suspicion. Like... wasn't there that one night where we didn't perform the contraceptive charm? So I checked. And it was positive. And negatives can be wrong, but positives almost never are. I freaked out a little. But my decision was anything but spontaneous, though I know Ron still felt it was. I mean, my first reaction wasn't one of 'oh wonderful I'm pregnant' the whole happy mother thing. It was more like 'oh shit... now what?' though I wasn't immediately aware that my conclusion to that question would be that I really didn't want a baby. But I suppose that should have tipped me off right then. I didn't know whether or not to tell Ron either. I mean, how does one tell that to your boyfriend? It was like I saw this whole life flash before my eyes, we would have to get married, we would have to sacrifice our lives and our careers, we'd never be the same. And sure, it's supposed to be the best change in your life, but your twenties are supposed to be the time when you travel, and do crazy things, and have adventures and then when you've 'been there done that' THEN you have kids and its wonderful and you want all the same wonderfulness for them. _

_But how do you start their lives when you've barely started your own? And maybe I got this from my parents, but I hate being sick. I hate hospitals, I hate feeling out of control, and I hate having to take medicine and worry about my health. And goodness, the idea of having a BABY and ITS health to worry about too... it made my brain start to hurt thinking of how much I DON'T KNOW about babies. Can you imagine me, Hermione, a mother? _

_I suppose Ron could anyway. But he's been around children his entire life, I mean, his siblings. I'm an only child. I never had to change anyone's diapers. I never had another kid to watch out for or depend on or anything. He would have been alright I suppose, though the thought of letting him watch out for a baby still makes me feel nervous. And if I actually decided to have the baby I couldn't have left Ron to raise it alone... _

_Part of it was how vehemently he wanted me to keep it. It made me feel like I didn't have a decision in the matter, like this was happening to my body and no one thought I should stop it. It was too out of control. And then I realized that maybe this was it. Maybe this was the ONE THING that made Ron and I just... incompatible. After all that, after Hogwarts, maybe we just weren't meant to be together. _

_I would have stayed with him, but I couldn't say something like "I promise we'll have a whole boat load of kids in the future, Ron!" and I know he couldn't forgive me for letting his first child go. _

_We fought about it for a week. We both kept thinking that after a few days the other one would give in. When I told him I was pregnant, and at first he just looked dumbfounded, so I thought maybe it would be something we could actually talk about, and work through together. But then he grinned and said, "A little early, but hey. I wonder if he''ll have red hair?"_

_I asked Ron if we could talk about it, about whether or not we were ready to have a baby, and he just looked confused. I told him I didn't know if I was ready, if we should keep the baby or not. He never quite seemed to understand what a huge thing pregnancy is for a woman's body to go through. There are all sorts of complications that can happen that could have put both of our lives in danger, even magic can only do so much. _

_So the first conversation ended sort of stiffly, like that, with neither of us sure where the argument stood. It came up again at dinner, when Ron laid out his argument. He'd clearly been thinking about it, though his decision hadn't changed._

_By the end of the week we were both fighting with the fervor of someone fighting for a life, me for mine and Ron for our child's. I was sleeping on the sofa and we could barely look each other in the eye. I wondered if this was worth it, if I should just give in and have a baby, but the idea that having a baby could be a sort of giving in... I didn't want to bring my first child into the world like that. I wanted it to be a choice, I wanted it to be something where we started picking out baby cradles at the same time as we stopped performing the contraceptive charm. _

_Imagine telling your child, mommy and daddy had you because we were a little pissed one night and couldn't perform a contraceptive charm properly and I didn't even want you but daddy did and then we got married to make it all better. I mean, that's not exactly how it was, but if I gave in, if I agreed, how could I live with myself and Ron after that? Would I ever really be happy? Could I still love him, knowing that he couldn't love me if we made the opposite choice?_

_I went to the clinic for the potion the next morning. I told him I was going. He didn't try and stop me. When I got back, we exchanged a few words but we both knew that it was over. I made him cry, I made him hurt, and I've felt horrid about the pain I caused him ever since. I wish it hadn't been such a big deal to him. _

Hermione shut the journal, her wrist aching from the sudden emotional fervor of her scribbling. It felt odd, to have finally written that down on paper. She could have written more, but her head was starting to ache and she realized she was delving into the past a little too much.

Instead, she decided that it was time to work on the research she'd briefly discussed with Draco Malfoy at Bee's N' Bee's. She only had the barest scraps of information on Grindelwald, and not for the first time she wished that the Wizarding World was as library obsessed as the muggle one, for Hogwarts was the only real library in Great Britain. Or even Internet for that matter, though after seven years at Hogwarts she could barely function with a computer. Instead, she'd have to go and buy books.

An owl sent to Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley confirmed that they had one book on Grindelwald in stock, and that several others could be ordered. She already had Rita Skeeter's book on Professor Dumbledore, though she could hardly use that information as fact. She knew that she'd eventually have to go to Nurmengard, the prison that Grindelwald had built for criminals and political opponents alike, and that he had ended up living and dying in. But for the time being, she contented herself with ordering what she did have chronologically, and making notes on the usefulness of each and what chapters she might reference it in.

OOO

For the first time while at Quidditch practice, Ginny suddenly realized that she was on an all women's team. Well, she knew that, but the _implications_, or at least _possible_ implications suddenly struck her whilst in midair.

_We're all a bunch of young, sporty, and independent women,_ Ginny thought, and sort of right after that thought, _We're pretty cool._  
Ginny supposed that joining this team had probably been a feminist statement for her. Surrounded by older brothers her entire life, always playing with and against them, she was always having to prove herself up to their standards. Now she didn't have to try and measure up against men, she was simply measuring up against talent. _We're all women- and we'll kick your collective arses. _

There was a match coming up soon, and against a team of all men, maybe that's what was arousing these thoughts in her. It was going to be sort of a battle of the sexes. As soon as Ginny let that thought slip through her mind she immediately hoped none of the media would share that idea. It would turn the entire game into something ridiculous.

Ginny loved playing Quidditch. When she was younger, she was never as good as her brothers simply because of size and inexperience, but now of all of them, she was the only one who was good enough to make it professionally. It was a bit strange that she was the one doing it, and not Harry, after he had made himself something of a legend at Hogwarts as Seeker.

Once again after practice the entire team headed into Diagon Alley for drinks and relaxation and it was late when she got home to her and Harry's house. The place was quiet and Ginny pulled off her boots and stalked into the kitchen for a glass of water. She shifted through the stack of owl post looking for anything addressed to her and noticed a leather bound journal at the bottom of the stack. Hermione's present to her and Harry, well Harry more than her. She looked at it, then stuck it under one arm to write a note to Hermione in it later, and then dug through the cupboards for a snack.

Once she was sitting in the living room she opened up the journal, resisting the urge to quickly scrawl something in it like, _Please stay Hermione, don't go away again! _but was surprised to see something already written on the first page. More than something, it looked like an essay, written in Hermione's neat lettering. After reading only a few sentences she realized that this was not meant for her or Harry and that Hermione must have forgotten that the journals were linked. This was a private entry. But it seemed fairly light, just about traveling, and the words were as captivating as the books she had written. Ginny didn't want to put it down.

But then she felt her face turn red as her eye caught Ron's name and the word "baby" in all capitals. She almost started to close the journal but the emotion in the writing was so strong that Ginny longed to be part of it. She'd never gotten an explanation from Hermione of what had happened and Harry never volunteered much. She'd gotten a full-blown rant from Ron, but that was certainly biased. It was something Ginny had always hoped Hermione would confide in her, but never had. Then, Hermione had always had Harry and Ron, she had never needed her best friend's little sister to be there for her. But now- she _didn't_ have Ron. Ginny allowed herself to finish reading the entry.

Then she picked up a quill and bottle of ink and started to write a response, half apology for reading Hermione's secrets, half reminder that the journals were linked, and half something to connect with Hermione's personal confessions.

OOO

The next morning Hermione flipped open her journal again while trying not to let egg yolk drip onto her research as she attempted to eat breakfast, research, and write in her journal all at the same time.

A second paragraph in handwriting different than her own made her jerk her fork and let a piece of egg dribble with a splat onto an old library book.

"Bollocks!" Hermione exclaimed and quickly pulled out her wand to clean up the mess as she abruptly remembered that she'd decided to put this journal to a better use by giving a _connected journal_ to Harry and Ginny for their wedding.

_Hello Hermione. I think you may have forgotten that these journals were linked, and I apologize for reading your entry. I can tell it was something very personal for you, and not necessarily meant for other eyes. But... I also wanted to say that I a little glad I read it, because it gave me some insight into why you left Ron and I understand your decision._

_I don't think your break-up was specifically related to gender differences (after all, your arguments could have be reversed), but I do know that guys can be pretty stupid sometimes when it comes to relationships. I guess you already know about this, but I was so mad at Harry when he broke up with me at the end of our sixth year... It was like he didn't think that I had a say in the decision, that it wasn't something we should talk over together, that I didn't get a say in the risks I was taking, but he could go take all the risks he wanted. I mean, of course he was doing it for brave, noble reasons (or so he thought) but it was still stupid. And the fact that he was trying to protect me, me! Who was in minute danger from You-Know-Who compared to him! And clearly, we didn't really break up...The idea of being forced into something you don't want, I know that. _

_Maybe that's one of the reasons I liked flying so much. When I'm in the air, on a broomstick... it's total freedom. If I get hurt, it's entirely my fault, but it's wonderful because it's all me. My team depends on me to do my job, there's no ambiguity about it. Simple, wonderful... Anyway, now I'm the one rambling, though not quite so eloquently as you! I hope you're doing well in Hogsmeade Hermione, you should drop by and visit us sometime. We're still your friends, even if your relationship with Ron is still a little tense right now. _

Hermione stared at the words penned by Ginny, surprised and a little touched. She also felt a little bit bad about not confiding in her before. Aside from being embarrassed that Ginny had read her long, angsty rant about her and Ron, she was actually kind of glad that Ginny had read it.

She scribbled a quick note in reply, apologizing that she would be disappearing again for maybe a week or so for research. Then she went ahead and explained her ideas for her book on Grindelwald, and left it there before it started turning into another lengthy diatribe.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and watching the first chapter of this story! Hope you'll enjoy this one as well, sorry for the heavy seriousness.. not all the chapters will be like this I promise. Remember to give credit to Snowbear and check out her stories as well. Hope to have another chapter up by this weekend! **


	3. Something

"You make me feel something I absolutely cannot feel."

OOO

Harry heard a light rap on the door and he looked up from feeding his owl, a Tawny named Archimedes, slightly surprised. Most people did not call this time of the day, and friends told him ahead of time when they were visiting. The number of visitors had dropped slightly since the wedding, since he and Ginny were technically honeymooning, although both of their jobs prevented a real honeymoon. They'd both agreed they could take a vacation later in the year, for a few weeks maybe, during Ginny's off season.

He was a little worried about Ginny, actually, though he'd never talk about it to anyone. Ever since the wedding she'd been a little distant, though maybe he was just imagining it. She _was_ working very hard at training, and this made her hours long. Or was it always a little different after marriage? Maybe this was normal.

He pushed away those thoughts and went to answer the door. He was delighted to find Hermione standing there on his porch, looking shy and happy to see him.

Harry quickly embraced her in a short hug and pulled her inside.

"Cup of tea?" he asked heading into the kitchen.

"You really have grown up if you're making tea now Harry. Or is this Ginny's influence I detect?" Hermione asked with a smile, coming inside, "But I would love one."

"Oh Ginny can barely cook and clean, I'm the one who takes care of things around here," Harry

said, "Remember the Dursley's? Except now I'm only slave to myself... how do houses get so messy so quickly?"

"Hm," Hermione agreed.

"So where have you been nosing around?" Harry inquired bringing over two steaming tea cups and setting them down on the living room table.

"Oh, visited Godric's Hollow again last week," Hermione said.

"Really?" Harry said his face lighting up. Hermione often wondered why he and Ginny weren't living there, quaint as this little neighborhood was, she'd always assumed that's where he at least would live.

"Yes," Hermione said with a smile, "And no old ladies turned into snakes this time. I'm doing a book on Grindelwald, and so I dug around to get access to both the Dumbledore's old house as well as Bathilda Bagshot's. Did you know that top window is still broken? No one's moved in there since she died..."

She and Ginny had been corresponding regularly and she realized that Ginny must not have been sharing Hermione's updates on her exploration of Godric's Hollow with Harry. It made her feel, secretive, as if she was going behind Harry's back. She shrugged off the feeling and started to sip at her tea. Despite this, she decided not to bring up the diary. She kind of wanted to keep it between her and Ginny, even if the contents that were shared did not have to stay secret.

"Yeah, being a Dark Wizard catcher just doesn't live up to that year we spent looking for Horcruxes," Harry said, his voice nostalgic though his smile was part grimace.

"Thank goodness," Hermione chided, "I should hope that your whole career goes without another Voldemort."

"Well, that's what I'm supposed to be preventing, now," Harry said, his smile true now, "Though I'm still technically in training."

"I thought you passed your test?" Hermione said, looking puzzled.

"Well yeah, but they keep a close eye on you and pair you with someone very experienced for the first year or two," Harry explained, "The unofficial term is tyro."

"And not even Harry Potter gets a free pass, hmm?" Hermione teased.

Harry looked awkward now, as he always did when people mentioned his fame, and just said, "You were there. You know it was mostly luck... what I'm doing now is real."

There was a muted bang and then the sound of the door opening as Ginny apparated onto the front porch and stepped into the house. Hermione glanced up in surprise, she'd assumed Ginny was already in bed, not still at work. A moment later the young woman appeared, her red hair wildly messy from flying.

"Oh!" she said, seeing Hermione as she set down her bag with all of her flying gear, "Hermione."

Hermione felt her breath catch for a moment, but then she swallowed and said, "Hello Ginny. How's Quidditch?"

As if Ginny hadn't just told her all about their last match against (team) It was if the journal entries never happened. This was the first they'd spoken face to face since the wedding. It was strange now to find herself looking Ginny in the eye (or rather looking up since somewhere around their sixth or seventh year Ginny had passed Hermione in height by an inch or two) and hearing the sound of her voice whilst communicating.

"Great," Ginny said, "Gwenog is pushing as hard as usual, we're hoping to make it to the Cup this season, but it's still early to get our hopes up."

She padded into the kitchen in her socks and poured herself a cup from the pot of tea Harry had made, dumping several large spoonfuls of sugar in, Hermione noted.

"Well, they're certainly training long enough hours," Harry commented lightly to Hermione, his eyes looking through the kitchen door to watch his wife. Hermione thought she caught a glimpse of worry, but the next moment it was gone.

"Just wait until the off season, Harry!" Ginny called over her shoulder, "Then you'll see TOO much of me!"

"I could never get enough of you," Harry retorted with a grin.

Hermione watched the interplay between husband and wife with slight curiosity. Was this what being married was like? This casual teasing, ease of being around each other? She and Ron had had that. But for them, it hadn't been enough.

"Sorry Hermione, but I'm off to bed," Ginny said passing through the living room again as she carried her cup of tea upstairs.

"Not at all," Hermione replied though she suddenly wished Ginny would stay and chat a bit, while at the same time feeling a bit relieved to not have to put on an act. Odd that she was seeing Harry the most face-to-face but corresponding more with Ginny. Maybe that's why she wanted to keep it between the two of them, maybe they needed it, the way all girls need another girl in their lives to share with.

Hermione talked with Harry until they'd finished their tea, reminiscing about times at Hogwarts and she let Harry describe his reaction to being in Godric's Hollow for the first time even though she'd heard that from him many times already. It was good to cement certain stories for telling again and again. Then they said their goodbyes, and Hermione went outside to Apparate back to her apartment in Hogsmeade.

OOO

When Ginny stepped into the house to meet Hermione's eyes, it was the same as that moment they'd shared on her wedding day. She felt momentarily stunned, as if the real Hermione was so much more than her memories could conjure. Even after writing to her in the journal, hearing some of Hermione's more private thoughts, the real her was somehow electrifying in her solidity.

She felt her heart pick up speed as her mind scrambled to find words to say, what had they last talked about in the journal? All she could manage was an "Oh. Hermione." Hermione was more composed and started with the normal, "Hi, alright?"

This gave Ginny something to talk about, and she starting going on about Quidditch while escaping into the kitchen where luckily there was some tea sitting out. Then when Harry started teasing her it was easy to fall back into that pattern of banter with her spouse rather than think about the fact that Hermione was sitting in the dining room. As she stirred her tea, she couldn't help but yawn, and decided that exhaustion was a fair enough excuse for retiring early, as she had been often the last few weeks.

She took a sip as she headed up the stairs and frowned, how many spoonfuls of sugar had she put in it? She wrinkled her nose and decided it was too late. It would just have to be very sweet tea. She went upstairs and shed her Quidditch uniform before stepping over to the shower and turned the faucet up hot. Despite the summer weather, she always loved a good, hot shower when she got home.

After the shower she crawled into bed and an hour later she felt Harry climb into the bed with her. He put a cool hand around her, and she felt his breath on her neck. She remained still, pretending to already be asleep, not entirely sure why she did so. He kissed the back of her neck once, but it didn't make her shiver delightfully as it once had. Her thoughts were still too wrapped up over the brief encounter with Hermione earlier, as her mind replayed the scene over and over again. Her mind chiding itself for not saying something more empathetic or smart or interesting.  
She wanted to write in the diary.

OOO

_June 7, 2002_

_I miss you, I wish you weren't gone again already. I'm writing from a coffee shop- on my lunch break with the harpy gang. How long are you staying in Nurmengard? Have you found out anything interesting yet? I can't imagine spending two whole weeks in that awful place. I'd just spend the whole time wondering what that place would be like now if Dumbledore hadn't succeeded in stopping him!_

_You really ought to buy a camera so you can send me photos of your travels. And by that I meant: so you can document the research you're doing. _  
_Do you wish that Voldemort hadn't killed him? Only five years ago, you would have had all the material you'd need for this story. I imagine the deathly hallows will play a large part in the story. _

_Anyway, I'm feeling overly stressed by Quidditch practice I think... my nerves have been on end these last few weeks. Maybe Harry and I should have ditched everyone and taken a real Honeymoon right away. I just feel exhausted from practice, and then I'm up all night tossing and turning. When you get back from your travels you should come and visit more often, I promise I'll try and be more friendly in person._

_June 8, 2002_

_I'm coming back in a few days Ginny. You wouldn't believe the number of scrolls and documents they have of Grindelwald's here, not just the historical documents on Nurmengard but also his own personal writings from his imprisonment here. And drawings, he was actually quite the artist... I suppose a lot of prisoners pick up a hobby to fill the endless amount of time. Thankfully they've kept pretty good archives on their prisoners. That's all for now, take care, I will definitely visit more often, promise. And don't push yourself too hard- health is important too, not just Quidditch!_

_June 8, 2002 _

_Sounds like a treasure for an academic nerd like you, Hermione! He wrote stuff while he was in prison? And Rita BitchLady Skeeter never got a hold of it? Haha, score one for the Granger! You had better visit more often, too, or I'll set my Harpies on you. And you need to write to me more! For a writer, you sure don't keep a prolific journal. _

_Of course, now I've dug myself into a hole to write more about me... so umm... I don't know why I need to write umm I could just think that instead of actually writing it and now I'm just rambling.. soooo... Training is getting pretty intense after we lost our match against an all guy team. Gwenog seems to think this is a personal slight against all women, everywhere. I think she might be gay... I mean she doesn't shave her legs. That means you're a lesbian, right? Haha, anyway... Exhaustion sets in._

_Poor Harry... I guess I haven't had much time for him in between sleep and practice. Of course, he works pretty hard as an Apprentice Auror or whatever they call the Aurors who are still under the wing of another, experienced Auror. As if Harry need any more guidance on how to catch Dark Wizards, right? They should have made him an Auror without any training at all. Hell I could be an Auror- any of us at Hogwarts back then could do it- that was real world training, ladies!_

_Hmm, well now I'm blabbing about other stuff... I guess my life seems pretty boring when I compare it to yours, traveling all over the world doing research on interesting stuff, seeing things, meeting new people... and so I can't think of much to write about me. Well, there, I have a few paragraphs! So now you must feel obligated to write at least this much!_

_June 12, 2002_

_Sorry about the long wait, Ginny! I know, after you have berated me so for my brevity. Would you like to hear about Grindelwald? I think I will have to tell you anyway. He writes a startling lot about love... After Lord Voldemort... you know how Dumbeldore always said that he underestimated the power of love? It has kind of surprised me to find what I think are love poems. He must never have given them to his girl, or whoever it was, if he still had them. Or maybe the guards at Nurmengard never sent them. Either way, it provides support for my idea that Grindelwald wasn't all dark, like You-Know-Who, more of a normal man who got set on the wrong path, capable of love and normal human emotion. He isn't someone who would create a Horcrux or become bent on eternal life... In his own twisted way, maybe he really thought he was going to make the world a better part... How much do you know about Muggle Nazis?_

_Anyway, don't work too hard Ginn, save some energy for Harry! ;) Gwenog can't possibly have you training ALL DAY. And not all lesbians don't shave their legs. Not everyone is a walking stereotype. I mean sure, I suppose there are some lesbians out there who are total dykes but... I've yet to meet those ones. Anyway, stop peeping at people's legs!_

_June 13, 2002_

_I DO NOT PEEP HERMIONE GRANGER! You know that. Anyway, how many lesbians have you met? Haha, I have kissed a girl before- do you remember that kiss? (Back when you were still getting over Lockhart being insane (more haha) and _*scribbles*. _Um yeah. Nevermind that. Unless it isn't awkward to reminisce about Ron...? Erk. Awkwardness. Well... now I've said this much I might as well write out what I just attempted to remove. Before you and Ron had figured out you liked each other enough to fight about it... Anyway, I totally forgot about that until now. Is that weird? Ha- I wonder what Harry would think if he found out! _

_Anyways... trying not to train TOO hard although you need to check out my biceps when you come home, haha... Harry is quite enamored with my muscles, though he can't be too jealous with all his Auror training. Age has made him less of a stick and little more... lean and wiry like. Anyway, I'll spare you the details._

_June 14th_

_You mean the, I want to kiss Harry but I don't know how to kiss, will you teach me, kiss that we shared? _

_You seemed to have forgotten that I'd never kissed anyone then either. Did I tell you I actually found books in the library with pointers? Victor was my first real snog, as painful as it is to admit. You also have some unclosed parentheses... I can't help but notice and want to edit. _

_I'm afraid I have a bit of a confession, you're not the only girl I've ever kissed. I know, I know... I see the shock on your face already, and I hope it's a friendly sort of surprise and not the angry kind... I hope we're close enough that you're understanding?_

_I guess I'd just better go on and give you the whole story. I didn't even realize what it was... Hmm, this is hard to start. I should practice writing my own stories more I suppose. She was... she was... hmm. She was beautiful. A muggle. Brilliant, in their world. Cutting edge research in theoretical physics. Things I hadn't thought about since I was in grade school. Gravity, you know? I was in Cape Town, taking a break from the anthropology, anyway, I ran into her at the university. I was trying to blend in as a muggle, you know! You'd think I'd be better at it- having been raised as one. _

_She took my breath away! I didn't know... I just thought she was amazing. She was so sure of herself as well, she had the professorial look going on, you know, glasses perched on the end of her nose- mixed with sexy. Not traditional sexy.. I suppose nerdy sexy... and don't laugh at me! Anyway, she was... well not obviously a lesbian but in hindsight there should have been clues. If you can believe it she made me waste THREE MONTHS of my book research to look into Wizarding Physics... you know, like how magic actually works. Maybe it's related to muggle physics? Anyway._

_Anyway, we started going on lunch dates, talking about this and that. I was so awkward! It was like being twelve again! I blushed whenever I saw her unexpectedly, and I told myself it was just because I felt like I didn't deserve her attention because of her status... Dr. Jaya Rangarajan... (she's Indian) Overwhelmed by her amazing intellectuality but mixed with this brazen confidence... about everything! She didn't care what the administration thought about her! She didn't even pass all of her exams in graduate school, for getting her doctorate! But her thesis, her dissertation was so good she passed ANYWAY. Imagine! I mean, I suppose Harry and Ron didn't even TAKE their Newts and they're doing fine. But I'm off track again. _

_So I didn't realize that I only thought that she was so amazing because I had a HUGE LESBIAN CRUSH on her. I cannot believe I just wrote that. Also... is it bad of me to admit? Foreign accents are sexy... The way she said Hermione... Okay, wait take that back, I just remembered Victor saying my name... That must just have been her being sexy. I'll spare you the details. _

_But finally... I think she saw what I couldn't- saw through my awkward blushing and bumbling and made the first move where I couldn't. I remember when I found out that she identified as lesbian, when she mentioned a girlfriend... at my expression (I was so jealous and I didn't even know it), she quickly remedied to ex-girlfriend. That's one of the things that tipped me off. How glad I was that she was single... how sort of awkward excited... anyway._

_She invited me on a real date: "Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?" She acted so shy when she asked I knew she didn't mean just as friends! Oh God, the mortification! But I said yes. I'm a little embarrassed to admit I promptly stayed up all night using the muggle equivalent of a library (its called Wikipedia) looking up what being a lesbian was until I was too tired to care. _

_We kissed on the roof of her house outside Cape Town, stars and palm trees and the cacophony of music and cars and the smells of the ocean and city smog, with the dark silhouette of the mountains..._

_So, you're not the only girl I've kissed, Ginny. And what I'm getting at is- well I'm usually one to always try and categorize everything neatly under labels, but I tried looking up all the possible labels like bisexual, pansexual... there are many terms. None of them seem to quite fit, like I'm putting myself into a box or something. It's like I think I'm attracted to people, regardless of gender, if that makes any sense. _  
_So yes I've met a few lesbians, and yes, she did shave her legs. _

_June 20, 2002_

_Okay, so now I'm taking a long time to reply, but it's not from any sort of animosity! That's what made me finally write... had to let you know your... umm... sexuality... doesn't bother me. Or lack of labelness. Is that a word? _

_So life is boring as usual. Cool that you met someone cool in Africa! Are you still in touch with her?_

_Also your entries have been distracting me in a good way- and a bad way actually because I completely started spacing out during practice and completely messed up a new drill we were learning but that's irrelevant so... _

_This is why I haven't written. MY LIFE IS SO BORING, HERMIONE! You don't understand._

_I think if Harry tells me again about that moment where he realized the Elder Wand was his and how he's going to write a whole book about Voldemort someday I'm going to scream! And he can't talk to me about his work because half of it is top secret and there's not a whole lot to say about my work except for me showing off my six pack which leads to other things that are NOT interesting conversation.. and I'll stop there. _

_When are you coming home?_

_June 20, 2002_

_I intend to knock upon your door in... twenty minutes._

**A/N: Here you guys go! Please enjoy. And for all of you that have this on your story alerts, give us (Snowbear and I) some reviews, we would love some more feedback! **_  
_


	4. A goodnight kiss, maybe?

"The lily means, 'I dare you to love me.'"

OOO

As it turned out, Ginny was still at Quidditch practice, for which Hermione was oddly relieved. She intended to talk to Harry, as much as Ginny bugged her to visit, because she felt bad about the fact that she hadn't really written to him, involved as she was in writing to his wife.

"Just dump all that in the trash please," Harry said when she untied a letter from a wizard post owl that had been fluffing its feathers angrily in the window for the last two minutes. He gestured at the pile of mail from previous owls on the windowsill.

Hermione leafed through the letters curiously. All had return addresses from across England and Great Britain. None of the names were familiar, and many envelopes were decorating with hearts, or stickers of Harry looking awkward and adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Hermione smirked, "Can't I keep this one?"

"Er," Harry said

"For reference. When I help you write that book about Voldemort you keep talking to Ginny about," Hermione said with a soft smile.

"You two correspond?" Harry asked, "Why not write me some letters while you're at it, huh? Or let me read Ginny's? Also, you won't find anything of use in those. Just declarations of love and rubbish like that. The good ones, stories about Voldemort, those dwindled off years ago. Don't worry, I kept them!"

"And tossing in the trash," Hermione said bringing the whole pile over to the rubbish bin, "We don't really write each other letters, I just mean from the times I've stopped by."

"Oh," Harry said as he walked into the kitchen to stir the pasta that was boiling gently on the stove.

"On that note I was wondering if I could help you write it, you know ghost write and edit," Hermione said sliding onto one of the bar stools and leaning on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area.

Harry glanced over at her with an awkward smile and said, "Oh, er- didn't I ask you that already? Maybe I talked to you about it my head so much I forgot to do it in real life... Or I just thought it was obvious."

Hermione grinned, then pulled herself off the barstool to go over to Harry and hug him from behind, "Oh Harry, you'll always be the same."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry answered, then frowned at her over his shoulder, "I mean, I think."

"Sure," Hermione said, leaning around him to take a long sniff at the pasta, "So you learned all this from the Dursleys? I never knew spaghetti could smell so good."

"Yeah, it's when the noodles are cooking that you can season them," Harry said, stepping back from the stove and turning to face Hermione, "Though I hope I don't turn into a cook. Being an Auror is still more fun. It makes me wish Dueling Club had stuck around after Lockhart, only with a better professor to run it..."

"We had D.A., remember?" Hermione said with a grin, "So what are you doing now- caught any Dark Wizards yet?"

Harry shook his head, "Nope. Still only one Dark Wizard under my belt. Goodwin and I are trying to track down a guy who was making illegal potions in his basement. The Muggles reported strangely colored smoke coming from a window, and when the Ministry got wind and went to investigate, he took off. Not exactly the makings of the next Dark Lord, I don't think..."

"I think I'd better have some tea before I apparate back home," Hermione said moving into the kitchen and helping herself to a mug.

Harry nodded and sat down heavily on a chair in the dining room while Hermione set the kettle on the stove and pulled out a second mug for Harry.

"No sign of Ginny yet?" Hermione asked. Harry glanced towards the wall behind him, "Says she's still with the Harpies."

"Mm," Hermione said spooning tea grounds into both their cups then pouring the now boiling water into the mugs. She skipped on the milk and sugar and walked around to sit next to Harry placing a mug in front of him.

"Thanks," he said with a tired a smile.

"You know, you should visit Ron some time," Harry said, "I don't think it would be as bad as you both think it will be."

"Mm," Hermione said again, not wanting to commit either way.

They drank their tea quietly, both feeling rather nostalgic she surmised.

"Well, I'm off then," Hermione said standing up and moving towards the doorway. Harry nodded.

"Good night 'mione," he said as he started up the stairs. Hermione let herself out onto the porch and took in a deep breath of the night air, filled with the scent of the lilies growing in pots on the stoop, only to hear the familiar pop of apparition as Ginny appeared next to her.

"Oh!" Ginny said, "I didn't think you'd still be here..."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Hermione said with an accusing smile feeling a rush of warmth at the girl's sudden entrance.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Ginny said letting her duffel bag that had been slung over one shoulder slide to the ground as she put a hand on the doorknob, "After I've been the one pressuring YOU to come visit, I know."

Hermione put a hand on Ginny stopping her from opening the door just yet, "Hey, how are you doing?"

She examined the younger woman, the fatigue in her eyes, noting the things that didn't show up in writing. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail, she had on a light pair of grass stained practice robes with the sleeves rolled up. She was still wearing her shin guards over her boots and had somehow managed to leave on her left elbow guard while the right was nowhere to be seen. The duffel bag presumably.

"Good," Ginny said biting her lip as she met Hermione's gaze, "Just hectic, you know?"

"Don't work too hard," Hermione told her.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed.

"I have to get home, my bed is calling me," Hermione said reluctantly, "but let's do something. Sometime."

"Sometime soon," Ginny affirmed.

"Goodnight then," Hermione said taking her hand off Ginny's.

"G'night," Ginny said and leaned in to hug Hermione tightly. Hermione hugged her back and turned her head to give a quick kiss on the cheek, and somehow Ginny turned her head at just the same time for the kiss to land just at the edge of her lips.

The blood started pounding her Hermione's ears and it was all she could do to quickly step back and not plant that kiss a little more firmly on the other girl's lips.

_What am I doing? _Hermione wondered hoping Ginny couldn't see her blushing in the dark.

"Take care," she said trying to brush it off as the good night kiss it was supposed to be and promptly apparated back to her apartment before Ginny could slip in a word. Neither of them had mentioned the journal.

OOO

It was a weekend and Harry was woken from the sofa by the sound of the door bursting open as Ron's voice shouted, "Hey mate, no sleeping in today!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he suddenly realized _where_ he was sleeping- but he didn't want Ron to get the wrong idea, so he sat up quickly and swung his feet over the side of the sofa before saying, "In here! Want some coffee?"

"No thanks, had breakfast at the burrow and already had to force down a cup of dad's," Ron admitted poking his head into the living room and raising an eyebrow at Harry's disheveled look.

Harry ran a hand through his undoubtedly very messy hair, feeling off-set at being woken up so suddenly, and then the mess of not wanting Ron to find him on the sofa. It wasn't because there was anything wrong between him and Ginny. At least, he hoped there wasn't anything wrong. Harry shoved that thought away. No, Ginny had simply gotten back from practice late again, as usual, but Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for her. He vaguely remembered hearing her come in, but he hadn't woken up enough to move. He wondered why she hadn't dragged him up to bed. Probably she hadn't wanted to disturb his sleep. On that note, _she_ had been sleeping roughly the last few weeks. He wished there was something more he could do for her, wished that Gwenog Jones wouldn't push her Quidditch team so hard...

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked setting down a crate on the kitchen counter.

"Still asleep," Harry said with a grin, standing up and yawning with a stretch. _I think._

"I'll go wake her up," he added, glancing at his watch. 9 o'clock. Should be late enough to wake her up with risking the Weasley wrath. He smiled to himself.  
Ginny was sprawled serenely on the bed, somehow managing to lay diagonally and take up the whole thing. It looked like she hadn't even bothered with pajamas, just stripped down to her underwear and white undershirt. Harry still wasn't sure how witches managed to get their bras off from underneath their shirts without removing the shirt itself. Eternal female mysteries.

He placed a gentle kiss on the back of her neck while he rested a hand on her shoulder, "Morning 'Gin."

"Mmm," she complained and rolled over onto her back to stretch out across the bed even more as she let herself yawn loudly. When she was done yawning, Harry leaned to to kiss her again, this time on the mouth.

"Ron's here," he told her when they were done kissing, "Want me to fix you some breakfast?"

"Oh!" Ginny sat up quickly, then frowned and pulled the tie (rather lopsided now) out of the tangle of her hair.

"Is Hermione-"

"Not here yet, she said she wouldn't make it until lunchtime," Harry assured her.

"Don't worry about breakfast, I'll grab some when I run into Diagon Alley for the rest of that Slug Potion that Mum said to use," Ginny said, "I'll let you and Ron alone for the morning."

With that she was out of bed and had disappeared into the closet where the sound of hangers being thrown around could be heard.

"Shall we?" Ron asked as Harry came back downstairs, he'd peeled the lid off the crate and was digging through the magical powders and potions that were jumbled inside.

"Huh looks like no one's used these in a while, I wonder if any are still good," he muttered to himself, "George says some stuff gets stronger the older it gets..."

"Let's start under the back porch," Harry said selecting a fairly new looking bottle of Bundimun-Be-Gone!

He heard the front door open and close then the faint pop of Ginny apparating away.

"Late night for the two of you?" Ron asked as they crouched underneath the deck while little green eyes goggled at them with an expression of resentful distrust.

"Er, not me just Ginny," Harry explained, "Quidditch is kind of taking over her life, you'd think we'd be the busier ones what with cleaning up the Death Eaters..."

"Rough," Ron said, "And to think, we always wanted to be Quidditch players back when we were at Hogwarts. Look at us now, Aurors! Less hours, better pay... I think You-Know-Who set us up pretty good."

"I always feel bad killing these guys," Harry said with a sigh, imagining what Hagrid's reaction to the fungus might be.

"These guys?" Ron asked, "It's not even sentient. It just happens to have eyes." Ron squirted the edge of the mat of growth on the stonework with the Bundimun-Be-Gone!

"How does that even make sense?" Harry wondered and starting gesturing with his wand in the areas Ron squirted.

Ron shrugged, and they worked in silence for a while until...

"Bugger this!" Harry exclaimed in frustration, "I hope Ginny gets back soon with the Slug Potion and I hope it works better than this crap."

"How long did she say she'd be gone?" Ron asked.

"Didn't," Harry replied tersely, standing up and stretching to survey their handiwork.

Ron didn't comment.

"You know it sometimes crosses my mind to wonder if she's- having an affair, or something," Harry finally admitted, quickly adding, "Not seriously you know, but just what if?"

"Ginny wouldn't cheat," Ron quickly said, the obvious answer for both Ginny's brother and Harry's best friend. But the moment it came out of his mouth, he wondered.

"But quidditch practice until late, every night?" Harry pushed.

"Erm, that _does_ sound fishy. But, uh, you know we had a lot of Quidditch practice while we were at Hogwarts. Shouldn't it be ten times harder in the real world?" Ron wondered.

Harry, oddly, felt both unsettled and reassured by this comment and he said, "Yeah, I suppose... Maybe we just need to take our Honeymoon."

"You should just talk to her, maybe something is stressing her out," Ron suggested, leaning up against the porch railing.

Ginny _had_ been stressing over Hermione's return. Even today had been her idea of getting Ron and Hermione to maybe talk to each other, see if they could still be friends. It seemed Ginny was feeling the loss of the easy friendship that everyone had shared back in school the most.

"It's just, I know that she doesn't always come straight home, because half the time she doesn't even eat dinner when she gets back. Maybe its just socializing with the team or something..." Harry mused.

Ron grinned, "You know, I always wondered about the Holyhead Harpies... the only all female team... I mean-" he faltered, suddenly looking awkward as the tips of his ears turned red.

"I mean, _come on_, who _hasn't_ fantasized about them?" Ron finally said.

Harry snorted, "Let's go start some lunch."

OOO

Hermione quickly stepped back inside the kitchen and busied herself with the rest of the decaying potions that Harry and Ron had left in the crate and on the counters, pretending not to have overheard the end of the boy's conversation.

"Oh hey, Hermione," Harry said as they came inside, a wash of hot, humid air coming in with them through the open door. She heard, or rather sensed, Ron come to a sudden halt just inside the doorway.

Hermione kept her face towards the crate torn between being furious at Harry for not telling her that Ron would be here and feeling oddly guilty for Harry's concern about DID often stay after work with and without the quidditch team. Hermione knew this because Ginny was most often using that time to write to _her_.

"Hey Harry," Hermione said, forcing herself to keep her voice casual, "Hello Ron." She still didn't look at them, and kept digging through the bottles even though she'd almost immediately seen that there was nothing of use in the crate for Bundimun fungus. Well, at least there clearly actually was fungus- it hadn't been a story to get her and Ron in the same building. But someone definitely needed a lecture later.

"Erm, hello Hermione," Ron replied as he stepped into the kitchen after Harry all the way into the kitchen behind her.

"Any luck with the fungus yet?" she asked lightly turning around and making herself meet first Harry's gaze and then Ron's. Those brown eyes, strikingly similar to Ginny's with that same sweet unassuming gaze. But how that gaze could change when a Weasley was fighting for something. She looked away, her fingers tightening on the crate behind her.

"No, not really," Harry said, his own gaze inquisitive, gauging her reaction to Ron's presence.

"You really should get some of that slug repellent to mix in," Hermione suggested, "Didn't Molly always say to use that?"

"Er yeah, Ginny's getting that," Harry told her, "We were thinking of making lunch."

"Oh, right!" Hermione said, aware that her voice was higher and more peppy that it was normally.

_Ginny_. She hadn't seen her since that evening when... when they almost kissed. Sort of. Not really. But it had felt- significant. Or maybe that was just Hermione reading into things. Ginny was married, for Merlin's sake! And to Harry. It was completely inappropriate for her- to what? There wasn't anything odd about a good night kiss on the cheek! Hermione shoved these thoughts away, not even letting her subconscious complete the idea.

"You don't have any rice do you?" Ron wondered poking through the cupboards, Ron seemed at ease in this kitchen as if he'd cooked here many times. He probably had, it was a strange thought. Ron spending time with Harry and Ginny while she was off on the other side of the world. She hadn't spent this much time apart from any of them ever. Even though she and Ron hadn't married they'd been living together since she'd graduated three years ago (she'd gone back to do her NEWTS while Harry and Ron joined with the Ministry's Aurors to hunt down remaining death eaters before Harry started his offical auror training) until _that_ happened and she couldn't quite picture Ron in Harry and Ginny's kitchen without herself in the picture too.

She felt a small pain in her chest- she missed them, missed this. It made her feel jealous of Ron, oddly enough. He was still here with Harry and Ginny- but she had made the choice to leave. _I'm back now_, she thought ferociously to herself, willing herself not to feel guilty or sorry for herself, _We can be like we used to, the three of us. Plus Ginny._

"Is burritos the plan?" Hermione asked, trying to make conversation and distract herself from uncomfortable thoughts.

"Curry," Ron answered, and she felt the tightening in her chest again. Ron had always attempted to make curry when they lived together. It never turned out well. Maybe he had improved? She refused to make judgements.

"Anything I can do to help?" Hermione asked letting herself leaning back against the bar counter that divided the kitchen from the living and dining room.

"Erm, we need to clean up some dishes first I think," Harry said, looking around the kitchen. Indeed, it was quite a mess, despite Harry's self-proclaimed housekeeping skills.

"Of course!" Hermione said and pointed her wand at the dishes and let them all sort themselves into the sink and told the soap and sponge to cooperate to get them all done. Another flick and the counters were scourgified.

"I've missed your witchcraft around the house," Ron admitted surveying the kitchen with approval. He didn't wait for her respond but continued digging through the cupboards, pulling out ingredients. Harry took the bag of rice from where Ron had plopped it onto the counter, and measured some out into a pot along with water, then prodded the stove with his wand to light the fire beneath it.

Hermione just looked at the back of Ron's head, at a loss for words. This was harder than she had anticipated. Shouldn't a year be enough time to get over someone? She frowned at herself. She supposed she and Ron had been 'together' in some fashion for almost five years, if you included time at Hogwarts. Maybe it would be five years until she could laugh comfortably with him again. She hoped not.

Hermione suddenly jumped as she heard the door open and loud footsteps on the front hall floor. Her heart leapt, which she conceded to the surprise, and she felt a twinge of guilt, remembering once again, the kiss. She and Ginny hadn't corresponded since then, and she had no idea what the other girl thought... if anything.

Ginny strolled into the kitchen a shopping bag slung over her shoulder lazily, her face fresh from the sunlight and her hair haphazardly thrown into a ponytail, Hermione doubted she'd even brushed it. She somehow managed to pull off that eternally windswept look that many quidditch players strived to maintain.

"You went out dressed like that?" Ron asked, peering over the bar-counter to surmise Ginny.

She grinned, "Well apparently I slept in. I didn't have time to dress more appropriately."

Indeed, Ginny did appear to still be wearing her pajamas. Hermione somehow managed to both frown and smile at her at the same time as she felt a flush of pleasure at the other girl's entrance, though she tried to conceal it with a disapproving look.

"Oh, don't look so McGonagall Hermione," Ginny said, "It doesn't suit you, you're only one year older than me!"

"Who knows, maybe I'm the next in line for Headmistress of Hogwarts," Hermione retorted unable to hold back the smile this time, "I should practice my disapproving looks."

Ginny held Hermione's gaze for just another moment, then snorted and set the bag down on the counter and pulled out the slug repellant. Then she noticed Harry adjusting the fire under the pot of rice and gave the room a sniff.

"Cooking? Food?" she asked hopefully, "I haven't had breakfast!"

"Hello to you too Ginny," Ron turning from his mess of spices, "This is lunch, actually."

"You _did_ sleep in, didn't you?" Hermione laughed.

And then just like that, it was like old times. The four of them laughing together. Granted, it only lasted a few minutes, and then things somehow became awkward again as Ron started dumping curry powder on top of some chopped chicken, and the smell reminded her of their kitchen, her and Ron's kitchen...

OOO

"Well, is it working?" Ginny wondered staring out at the view of the sky from the back porch.

"Mm," Harry said non-committedly thinking back to his and Ginny's conversation the night before about Hermione and Ron.

"I wonder if maybe now, that it's been a year they could get back together, start over again," Ginny had said to him in the conversation, "I just want Hermione to be happy, I want both of them to be happy. She seems so different now, like the sadness has made her older."

"Well it looked like we killed all of the Bundimun," Harry said with a smile aware that that hadn't been what she was asking about.

"No, not that, you know what I mean!" Ginny scolded leaning back against him

"Ok, maybe, it seemed a little forced this afternoon," Harry agreed, "I almost wish they'd never gotten together in the first place so that they couldn't break up. I dunno, I guess I thought since they'd sort of... you know it took so long for them to get together in the first place. I guess I thought, especially since they'd stayed together so long after graduation... I thought it was forever for them. So I wouldn't have to worry about this, about this ruining the three of us."

"Well, maybe it would have been forever, if not for..." Ginny murmured.

"Yeah," Harry sighed and scooted closer to Ginny, putting an arm around her shoulder.

"So maybe now its been long enough that they can forgive each other, and if they can forgive each other maybe they can start again," Ginny mused.

"Yeah, this is the plan," Harry said, "Maybe we need to try a more romantic situation than killing helpless looking fungus."

"Or maybe no one is ever really perfect for each other and there's always differences that stop things from working out the way people imagined, maybe life's not perfect," Ginny wondered a little more darkly.

"Let's not give up hope yet!" Harry said, kissing Ginny on the ear, "That was really their first interaction since she left!"

He hoped that she wasn't referring to or thinking of their own relationship with that comment. But of course she wouldn't be. They were already married.  
Ginny, meanwhile, was wondering if Hermione and Ron had had a chance to talk- they'd both left at the same time.. it was possible that they had some alone time before Apparating away. She wanted to go write in the journal and ask. She kind of wished she would have a chance to actually talk to Hermione in person, just the two of them, for once. Whenever Hermione came over to visit, Ron was always there. Maybe it was time she paid a visit to Hermione, at her apartment in Hogsmeade. Come to think of it, visiting Hogsmeade would be fun anyway. She made a note to plan for this on her next day off.

Later, upstairs, she pulled out the journal from her nightstand. She hadn't written since that goodnight kiss, or whatever that had been. _Did I do that on purpose? _Ginny wondered, turned her head slightly to side, almost meeting the other girl's lips? She had no idea, just one little moment that went by too fast for her to stop and think about what she was doing.

She hadn't know it was coming- she was just turning to look at Hermione... probably. She didn't really remember what her thought process had been that evening. She had been too sleepy, or muddled, or something for things to be recalled clearly.

Opening the journal and flipping through their past entries she noticed Hermione had already written something.

_Hey, thanks for this afternoon. Inviting Ron, I was completely ready to be furious with you and Harry for not telling me, but I know I would have come up with some excuse not to show up if you had told me. You know me too well. Though don't think you're off the hook! I think it turned out relatively well, actually... well not at first anyway. It was so awkward, for me at least... I just kept... I kept being reminded of what it was like being with him. Then mixed with the pain of how we separated... it was enough, pain, I suppose, to make it hard to talk. I couldn't think of what to say, other than to just stare at him hopelessly._

_But as we were leaving he apologized to me. Just stopped on the front porch and said that he was sorry. At first I didn't even know what for. So maybe, I don't know, maybe there's hope. I should have told him that I was sorry too. There is a little part of me that does mourn the loss of my first child, I let him go. I think it would be impossible for there not to be, but it's better this way, I think... _

_What would my life be like, if we'd had it? Would we be married now, happy as can be, the four of us going on double dates? I try not to think about it- _  
_No, Molly would have been delighted, Ron too, but I know I wouldn't. That year I spent travelling, it was like I was proving to myself everything that I would be missing if I'd been turned into a teen mom. Maybe its not so strange in the wizarding world to have kids early, but in the muggle world having kids before 25 is usually by accident, and it's like, there's almost this stigma, you're not a progressive feminist woman, you're just a wife or something. _

_South Africa was so refreshing, so different from Great Britain! The people, the places... No, reminding myself of this, I can't imagine being stuck here, tied down by a squalling infant. But, but... but Ron._

_Maybe this is too personal, do you even want to hear all this?_

Ginny finished reading. She felt a little triumphant that the note had ended on a hopeful not for Hermione and Ron, even if the entry as a whole had suggested otherwise. But she also felt depressed, maybe because Hermione was clearly so happy with her life in the past year. Traveling, without Ron, without her and Harry. She had her own life now. Maybe this next off-season she could go traveling with Hermione, just the two of them with no boys, no households, no families to bug her to come and visit...

Suddenly she longed to see Hermione again in person, to ask her out loud about her travels and about Jaya. They had these amazing discussions all in pen, but never really got a chance to even meet one another's eyes when they were in person. There was always someone else around. It was starting to drive her crazy.

_Hermione_, Ginny started writing in reply, wondering if Hermione was watching as she wrote, _No, I'm glad you feel like you can tell me these things. I'm sorry for throwing you and Ron together, but you were clearly avoiding each other. Anyway, we should get drinks together next Wednesday afternoon (I get off practice early), in Hogsmeade. I haven't been there in so long, and I'd love to see your apartment! Hmm, now I can't think of anything else to write. Ho hum. _

"Gin?" Harry asked, coming up the stairs and Ginny slapped the book shut. She shoved it off over on her bedside table and rolled onto her back to smile at her husband as he came into their room.

"Writing?" he asked glancing at the book.

"Yeah, not even Tom Riddle could stop me from keeping a diary," Ginny told him with a faint blush. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips, and before he could pull away Ginny lifted her hand to his cheek and pulled him close again, kissing him back more deeply.

Later that night, after they made love, Ginny pulled the journal out again. The last entry was still hers. Maybe Hermione hadn't been watching her write after all. She'd just scrawled her entry and then closed it up again... Ginny glanced over at Harry, starting to fall asleep, curled up on his side, naked, in the fetal position with his head resting on her stomach. The sheets still kicked down to the end of the bed. She took her quill out again.

_I feel so settled with Harry, but I'm not sure I like this feeling. Doing cute little family visits to the Burrow, hanging out with all the other married members of my family. I want to get out! Take me with you the next time you leave! _

_I can't believe I'm actually writing this down, it makes it sound so much more real than just thinking it in my head. But don't get the wrong idea, I love Harry! Maybe I should drag him along too traveling. No, wouldn't do that to you, don't worry. _

Harry moved, and Ginny put the journal down again, her eyelids feeling heavy. She leaned over to the table and blew out the lamp, moving off her lap and curling up close to him.

There was something sweet about the picture of the four of them all paired up and happy, but something about it, somehow, seemed a bit off

**A/N: Here's chapter four. This story isn't going to be very long, I think we're half-way done now. Still quite a few things to happen though! Somehow this ended up being a very slow internal monologue type story. Hope there aren't any parts that are too boring! **


	5. Unstoppable Force Vs Immovable Object

**What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?**

"It never happens. If there's a thing that can't be stopped, it's not possible for there to be something else which can't be moved, and vice versa. They can't both exist. You see, it's a trick question is the answer."

OOO

"Hey Ginn!" Hermione called out, waving from the doorstep of the apartment complex.

Ginny paused, finding the source of the voice. Spotting Hermione, she grinned and started walking faster. It was only slightly cooler today, with just enough of a breeze to stop the humid summer heat from completely swamping you.

"Good afternoon, Hermione!" Ginny called out, feeling her spirits lift up. What a lovely day it was- practice had gone well too.

She stopped walking when she reached Hermione and just stood there, grinning at the other young woman. After a moment, the silence suddenly turned awkward and Ginny said, "Well- can I see your apartment?"

"Oh!" Hermione said, turning to the door, "Of course!"

Was that a blush that Ginny had seen as Hermione turned away? Either way, it was almost immediately gone. Hermione led Ginny inside, turning to the stairwell and leading her up to the second floor.

"Let me just fetch my purse and we can go walk around Hogsmeade and stop in at the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said as she unlocked the door to her apartment.

"Sure," Ginny said, leaning in on the doorway and peering curiously inside. The apartment was like an organized explosion of books, paper, and quills. Different combinations of the three were scattered everywhere, but neatly, as if there was some grand organizational principle behind having three quills stacked next to a book and a stack of paper on the counter, and 4 quills, 8 books, and 1 sheet of paper on the coffee table.

They alternated between silence and mild chitchat about current events- who the next Minster of Magic might be, changing laws on the rights of magical creatures and how this might eventually lead to more respect for Muggleborns... Neither of them quite managed to bring up the things they'd been writing about in the journal, each waiting for the other to broach the subjects first. And so they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, and found themselves sitting and staring out the window, sipping so-called 'Fire-Bombs', a light drink that was a mixture of Fire Whiskey and an anise seed flavored bubbling drink.

"Oh!" Ginny finally said, after watching a few Hogwarts students meander past, "Mum says to invite you over to dinner sometime. I think she's feeling friendly about it, anyway. Letting bygones be bygones. I hope."

She grinned at Hermione, who only nodded with a terse smile and said, "I'd love to visit the Burrow again."

Ginny could see the tension behind Hermione's eyes, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to press her. And Hermione didn't seem to want to bring it up herself. How could it be so easy to communicate by journal, but so hard in person?

"Mum means well and all, but she's started putting on the pressure for Harry and I to have kids," Ginny said, forcing a chuckle, "As if we're going to start a family so quickly!"

Then she realized she'd accidentally strayed to an even more tense topic, and took a gulp of her drink to cover up her sudden anxiety. A little later, Hermione started talking about Grindelwald and civil rights again, and they got into an intense debate on the amount that government should force people to be fair- should laws be put into effect to try and counter anti-Muggleborn biases, or was it the citizen's job to get equality for her or himself?It was late when Ginny finally admitted that she had to go home, and both of them found themselves stumbling into dark homes and dark beds, just tipsy enough to fall immediately to sleep.

OOO

_So how are things with you and Ron? _Ginny scrawled in the journal.

It was a Sunday, and Harry and Ron had both been called in to work on some immediate important update on the wizards Harry and his partner were after. Ginny was spending the afternoon writing back and forth with Hermione in the journal, while she lazed outside under a tree in the shade. She had a book open by her side, to read while Hermione wrote a longer entry, or had to go off and do something else for a bit.

_Oh, I don't know. I haven't really talked to him again. I suppose I'll have to see him when I come to dinner with your family at the Burrow_. Ginny watched as Hermione penned in the words, the ink magically appearing on the thick journal parchment in Hermione's neat script.

_Do you still miss him, though? _Ginny carefully wrote in, after a pause to think about it.

_Sort of. Is it possible to both miss him terribly AND never want to get back together? I miss Jaya too, actually, _Hermione replied.

_So what about this Jaya, was it hard to leave her?_ Ginny inquired.

_No, not anymore than leaving a good friend really. We keep in touch. I mean, don't get me wrong it was a wonderful experience, but it wasn't it, _she watched Hermione reply.

_What do you mean? _Ginny wondered, _How do you even know anyway?_

_Well we didn't have any of that wild and out of control passion, I still had my own free will to choose my actions and think about how I felt about her and how far I wanted to take it, I guess we just weren't falling for each other, _Hermione's reply came after a longer pause this time.

_What so you're only falling for someone if you're what, beyond self-control?_ Ginny's reply was quick.

_Well, no, but I mean take Ron and I. It was pretty slow and easy but we had so many times of turmoil that it almost felt like that. That we had that, that were were falling. But after Jaya, for whom I was also not falling, I think it made it even more clear that I love Ron, but only as a friend. Jaya said that when you do fall in love, you'll know because there's a reason it's called falling in love. At first you're standing on this precipice and you know once you step off there's no going back. That you've put your life, your heart, into the hands of another person. They're the only ones that can catch you then. _

Ginny frowned at the journal and then shut it momentarily to stare up at the sky through the leaves of the tree. What Hermione had written unsettled her, but she wasn't sure she entirely agreed. In fact, all that passion at the beginning of a relationship never lasted, it wasn't real, was it? Everyone said that eventually a relationship mellowed down into something warm and comfortable. Had she and Harry ever had that fiery burning?

Feeling peeved, she hastily wrote back, _So what, everyone who doesn't have that, is settling for less?_

_No, I'm just saying that Jaya and I weren't falling in love. _

Ginny shut the journal again, realizing that the blood was pounding in her ears. What was that all about? She stared up at the gently swaying branches of the tree above her and let herself start to feel grounded again. She thought about all the people she knew, all the relationships she'd seen. Did she even really know what love was? She suddenly felt thrown off balance again, out of control, standing on the edge.

Harry was her hero, she was his support, his partner always at his side. What they had, it was love, right? And it hit her, what was wrong with the image of the four of them, four best friends, two siblings, a family really. The picture was _too_ comfortable, it wasn't a picture of four people in love, it was what she had just realized, a picture of four best friends.

"Oh... oh Merlin," Ginny whispered, "I'm not thinking about this. Damn you, Hermione!"

OOO

"Hermione, dear, would you help Ron pull up some potatoes from the garden?" Molly Weasley asked Hermione, who was currently standing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen.

She traded glances with Harry, who just shrugged and rolled his eyes. Hermione felt a laugh build inside her, but she forced it down and said, "Of course, Molly."  
Ginny turned to look over her shoulder with a smirk from where she stood at the counter, directing her wand at some bread dough. Her mum seemed to be alternating between giving Hermione resentful glares and between trying to re-accept Hermione by trying to put her and Ron back together. Ginny felt a squirm of weirdness over thinking her mother too was thinking of putting them back together.

Hermione just looked all sad and beautiful altogether and at once, it must be hard for her to be here, not quite one of the family. She'd attempted to contain her bushy hair in a ponytail but already strands were frizzing out and framing her face, especially in the summer humidity. Compared to her own athlete's form Hermione was slender, not quite petite and definitely not fragile, but soft, without giving the impression of _being_ soft. This is the girl who slapped Malfoy in the face, who battled death eaters against You-Know-You. Whose patronus is an otter and whose favorite color is periwinkle blue...

Ginny watched as Hermione left the kitchen, saw her go out to the back garden where Ron was digging around in the rows of short potato plants looking for the biggest root. She watched out the open top half of the back door, watching Hermione smile at Ron. They must have exchanged a few words because Ron laughed, and the awkwardness that had been there lessened a little. Ginny turned her gaze away, because the tightness she felt in her chest again reminded her of things she was still refusing to think about.

Ambivalence, was that the word? To both want something and to also feel strong adversion to it, this is how Ginny somehow felt about Hermione and Ron's relationship. Ginny felt very ambivalent. But somehow... the part of her that didn't want it was growing stronger. She felt guilty about this too...  
Maybe she'd never really wanted Hermione to get back with Ron, maybe that had been her brain's explanation for her longing for Hermione to become re-involved in their lives, to stay in their lives and not disappear again like a dream.

"Ginny? That dough isn't going to knead itself," Molly pointed out to her daughter. Ginny looked back down at the dough that her wand was still pointed out, surprised to see it was still there.

"Oh, sorry Mum," Ginny said, and wiggled her wand at the dough again, forcing it to mash itself into itself.

OOO

Hermione looked up, startled to see that familiar redhead, and not the male one, slip into the back shed where she was, well yes, hiding.

"You too?" she asked as Ginny flipped over a bucket and sat down.

"Brothers," Ginny said in way of answering, "They still haven't gotten over their little sister being married and keeping asking me how my wedding night was and stuff like that."

"Molly for me," Hermione explained, "Won't let me and Ron be out of each other's sights, and when Ron is out of sight she just kind of glares at me. She still hasn't forgiven me."

"She will," Ginny assured the othe girl, "You know how she is."

"So, ever the only girl in the family," Hermione mused with a smile.

"Yes, Bill and Charlie want me to play quidditch with them but then they keep ganging up on me and besides I play quidditch all week I just want to relax!"

Ginny exclaimed, "Gosh I love them but then I come home and remember why I'm glad I don't live here anymore."

"Go get one yourself Ronnykins!" Charlie's shout echoed across the fields behind the burrow.

"Shit," Ginny said standing up and knocking over the broomsticks that they'd both failed to remember were stored in here.

"Lemme come hide behind you, I think we can both hide back there," Ginny said and scooted through the shed over to Hermione.

Hermione obligingly made room and stepped sideways, squeezing herself into a back corner behind an old metal toolbox. Ginny just barely fit as well.

They both held their breath as Ron burst into the shed, cursed at the old fallen down broomsticks, grabbed one and then turned around, "Did you bring yours Harry?"

"Yes, thanks," Harry's voice could be heard. The tool shed door closed.

Once he was gone Hermione suddenly realized how close she and Ginny were- close enough for her to tell that Ginny did not, in fact, have on a bra, and Hermione's hand was dangerously high on Ginny's right leg... Her breath caught in her throat. She glanced up to meet Ginny's eyes in the cool shadows of the shed. That was a mistake.

Ginny was staring at her like a deer in the headlights as she bit her lip, her hair mussed, a few strands dangling down in front of her face. Her eyes just barely an inch above her own. Hermione could hear, and feel, the other young woman's breath speeding in and out of her lungs.

"You make me feel... something, I absolutely should not feel," Ginny's voice was a breath on her cheek.

Hermione's first thought was about how easy it would be to kiss her, here, hidden away in this shed where no one would see or know and she let her fingers tighten on Ginny's thigh. But then she came to her senses and she tried to squirm backwards, put space between them.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Hermione said lamely, "Shall we get out of here?"

Ginny looked down and mumbled something noncommittal and they both stumbled out of the shed, brushing the dust off.

OOO

Hermione sighed with relief as the magical hold of Apparition let her go in the street outside her apartment in Hogsmeade. It was dark out, and getting a little chilly so she pulled her cloak tighter around herself and looked up into the flawlessly clear night sky. She still felt weak and a little sick, and it wasn't from the Apparition. She pulled her cloak again, needing something to do with her hands, and let out a long sigh.

She looked at her apartment, decided she couldn't stand the idea of being in there alone with herself, and immediately Apparated away again. This time, she appeared in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron of Diagon Alley. She pulled the hood of her cloak up and slipped through the Leaky Cauldron into the streets of London, casting a quick disillusionment charm so that she wouldn't have to change into Muggle clothing.

Soon she was pulling off her cloak inside Bee's N Bee's and walking over to the bar. Luckily, it being a Wednesday night, it was not very crowded. She turned to look at the other man seated at the bar, and this time it was her turn to say, "Well well, who do we have here? This isn't the same silver haired Malfoy I knew at Hogwarts?"

"Yes yes," Malfoy said rolling his eyes as Hermione sat down next to him, "You look like you could use a drink. My treat this time?"

"Merlin, yes please," Hermione said, putting her arms down on the counter and then dropping her forehead onto her arms, "Sometimes I think I never should have come back to this country."

"That bad?" Malfoy wondered, "New book not going well?"

Hermione suddenly realized who she was about to unload on, and wondered if he'd find this annoying. She picked up her head and looked at him carefully. But Malfoy just looked curious, and a little bored. The bar _was_ fairly empty.

"Book is fine," she said, "It's going to be quite a sensation I think. Just wait, I'm not telling you."

"What Grindelwald's gay?" Malfoy asked sarcastically.

Hermione nearly started choking wondering, _Was Malfoy reading her mind? _and managed to cough out, "Do you have a one track mind, or what?"

Malfoy shrugged, and waved the bartender over, a young woman- Hermione looked again and corrected herself- _man_, then- maybe he wanted to present as a woman? Either way, the bartender came over, and Malfoy ordered two shots of firewhiskey.

"Can't we have Jameson or something?" Hermione complained, taking her shot from the bartender.

"No, real Wizards only drink Firewhiskey!" Malfoy declared with a grin. Hermione realized he was already a little beyond tipsy. He raised the shotglass to Hermione, who decided _What the hell- shots it is tonight!_ and tapped her glass against his.

They downed the Firewhiskey and Hermione barely managed not to cough as the strong liquor burned down her throat.

"I met someone..." Hermione started taking a swallow of water to chase down the Firewhiskey.

"Wizard or witch?" Malfoy asked with a grin-almost leer that said he would be very amused if she answered 'witch'.

"Witch," Hermione let herself admit and suffered through the predicted laughter from Malfoy.

He buried his face in his hands while his shoulders kept shaking before he finally asked, still pink in the cheeks, "Are you _sure _this isn't why you left Weasel then? Or were you just lying?"

"Oh piss off! Yes, I'm sure!" Hermione said, "Get me another shot already."

"So, who is this someone?" Malfoy asked waving over the bartender again. Hermione gave him another look- when had he been a gossip? Maybe hanging around Pansy Parkinson for seven years had rubbed off on him.

"The wrong someone," she correct, then muttered under her breath, "Wrong _Weasley_." She blinked, realizing that she could already feel the alcohol entering her bloodstream. Sometimes being a light drinker was obnoxious.

Two shots later Hermione was starting to feel drunk, and she was spilling the entire story about her relationship with Ginny Weasley to Draco Malfoy. Malfoy she could tell was not hiding his own emotions quite as well and she could tell he was torn between condescending laughter at watching his old rival get drunk, feeling superior over being not as drunk that she was, thinking of what he could say to take advantage of his knowledge about her drunkenness in some way that would make him look good, and just genuinely enjoying himself. It was actually a little amusing to her to see his face flicker between the "You wait until my father here's about this!" expression of condescension and the sympathetic laughter of someone who has been in similar positions before.

"So I went to leave, and for some reason- okay obviously because my subconscious is interested in her, not some reason, I went to kiss her goodbye... I mean, on the cheek, because you, uh know... that is the friendly thing to do... And uh... she sort of turned her head and it wasn't quite her cheek. Er, almost on the lips..." Hermione stared helplessly at Malfoy's half-hearted attempts to hold in his laughter.

"Anyway, we've been writing back and forth, and she knows I've dated a woman before- but anyway, and oh I KNOW I'm a bisexual but I don't think she's even thought about any of that and now that I'm around it's opened her mind to wonder about all sorts of things that she's really not and I'm taking advantage of her! And none of it should matter because she's with someone else, she's married!

"I've corrupted her or something... She said this- well it was in a shed, er... we were hiding from the Weasley horde- Molly is mad at me for dumping Ron so I was avoiding her- and Ron. And I didn't really dump Ron... we just ended up having irreconcilable differences... Anyway, Ginny and I were hiding in the shed and she said 'You make me feel something I really shouldn't feel'.

"And I just brushed her off, I mean what else could I do other than just have her right then and there!"

"This is a little more than I ever wanted to know about you Granger," Malfoy smirked, "I hope you don't expect me to start sharing with you likewise! Though I don't think that if I was inebriated as you are that I would have been able to get out the word 'irreconcilable'."

"I should shut up, shouldn't I," Hermione said, just a hair too drunk to actually blush, "Merlin, you hate the Weasels- I mean Weasley's... actually, don't you hate me too?"

"Well yes I suppose I do still hate all you preppy little Gryffindors," Malfoy admitted, "But I'm not above pretending to lend a sympathetic ear in order to gain future blackmail opportunities."

"Next round's on me," Hermione said pushing herself up straighter, "And by the way you'd better watch that tongue of yours because you and I both know that I can Obliviate you before you could say The Boy Who Lived."

Malfoy actually appeared to consider this but then, Hermione realized, he did look a little bit drunk now too. Just for spite she gave him a double shot and gave herself a regular, again of Firewhiskey.

"Not going to match me drink for drink?" Malfoy sneered.

"No, I plan on getting you just as thoroughly pissed as I plan to be," Hermione admitted.

"Haha," Malfoy said, "Perfect Know It All Granger, turning to the drink to battle her depression... from relationship problems with another witch..."  
At least it wasn't 'Mudblood' Hermione thought cheerfully, "Yeah, so says ferret-boy Slytherin who happens to be gay, and is therefore the last of the Malfoy line, finding himself alone in a liberally minded bar on a Wednesday night."

"Shut-up Granger," Malfoy glared at her.

"Shut-up Malfoy," Hermione retorted with a sardonic grin.

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before both of them burst into hysterical laughter.

OOO

Hermione was brushing Ginny's hair as the two girls readied themselves for bed. Ginny was spending the night at Hermione's after their girl's night out, despite Hermione's misgivings and, she wouldn't lie to herself, anticipation.

"Here let's take this to the bed and I'll see if I can work some of that tension out of your shoulders," Hermione suggested setting down the brush and, aware of her still faintly inebriated state, shoved aside all misgivings and decided to just let things go where they would go.

"Mmm," Ginny moaned softly as the two of them sat cross-legged on the bed while Hermione's fingers kneaded the other girl's shoulders.

"I've needed this," Ginny whispered, leaning her head back, "Merlin can Harry _not_ give massages..."

Hermione leaned closer while she worked, letting herself inhale Ginny's scent, her nose just a centimeter from Ginny's shirt. She smelled of grass and sunshine and faint but sweet sweat.

"Can I take off your shirt- it'll make it easier to get between your shoulder blades," Hermione said, feeling unusually bold, though she had found a knot through Ginny's shirt and pushed on it to make her point.

Ginny peeled off her white t-shirt revealing the sports bra underneath. Hermione plucked at it with a finger, "This'll need to come off too."

Ginny turned her head and smirked, "If I didn't know you better I'd think you have less than professional intentions."

"And if I do have unprofessional intentions?" Hermione asked moving her hands lower on Ginny's back.

"I suppose I'll just need to take off my bra anyway..." Ginny answered, pulling off the sport's bra after she said it, "After all- I _do_ need the massage."

Hermione let herself drink in the sight of Ginny's lithe athletic form- her tanned arms but pale body, the slight curve of skin that suggested bare breasts just beyond her eyesight. Just the thought made Hermione's body tingle from her groin lest she hesitate too long, she got back to work on the massage.

She worked on the knot between Ginny's shoulder blade for a little bit longer before starting to work across her shoulder blades, towards the edge of Ginny's back. She leaned in close again and kissed the girl on her spine, then quickly started massaging again. She let her hands drift over the gap between back and arm to massage Ginny's biceps. Hermione was suddenly aware of how close her fingertips were to Ginny's breasts, and she moved her hands down Ginny's arms, reaching for her hands.

Ginny shivered, goosebumps running across her forearms and with Hermione's gentle suggestion she let herself collapse backwards into Hermione's arms and attentions.

Hermione let herself kiss Ginny's ear and was rewarded with a quiet gasp, there was no turning back now. She kissed her ear again, and yes, this time Ginny turned her head back towards Hermione and she leaned down to touch their lips together. But it was awkward at that angle, so despite the fact that she could feel the tension entering Ginny's body, she pulled away, leaving it a soft, quick kiss. She paused- and in that pause, Ginny took the initiative.

"I think it's your turn now," Ginny asserted in an electric whisper turning around so that she was straddling Hermione's lap. Hermione sucked in a breath as Ginny reached down to pull off Hermione's nightshirt and gently unclip her bra. Hermione lifted her arms to allow Ginny to pull her bra off and then Ginny was holding her wrists and pushing her back against the pillows. She saw Ginny pause to briefly take in the other girl's body and Hermione arched her back to push her hips up into Ginny's, her entire body aching for more contact, for the feel of Ginny's lips against her skin and then Ginny's lips were really on Hermione's, really truly kissing her, her tongue pushing into her mouth, their bodies pressed together-

Hermione woke up with a gasp and stared at her ceiling for a moment before muttering, "Fuck!" half out of frustration that her subconscious was making her have such dreams, half out of frustration that she had woken up only part way through the dream. She glanced to the left and right of her just to be sure it _had_ been a dream, that somehow Ginny hadn't ended up at her apartment for a night of drunken delicious fun...

_Stop! Ginny is not delicious!_ Hermione chided herself and climbed out of bed, shedding her nightgown to climb into an icy cold shower.

**A/N: Sorry a little longer in getting this one up. Ah lesbian drama... in my life that is. Waaay too many triangles.. er squares.. er maybe um figure eights? Anyway don't forget to check out some of Snowbear's writing. (.net/~Snowbear)**


	6. Better than Krum

_First quidditch match is Saturday August 30th!_ Ginny made a quick note in the journal.

_I'll be there_, she saw Hermione almost immediately write back.

A blot of ink appeared in the journal, as if Hermione was holding the quill above it, poised to write more. Ginny stared, fascinated, and sure enough, a minute later more words started scripting themselves across the paper.

_Ginny... I think I should let you know that Harry is worried about you. I know you're working hard and don't have much time for home but... your marriage is more important than your job. Or your friends. Maybe you should try and take more time off from Quidditch? And as much as I love the daily updates and how much we've been writing to each other, maybe less writing to me and more talking with your husband? _

Ginny's heart picked up as she read Hermione's words and a flush of shame spread across her body. What did Hermione think of her? And Harry had noticed?  
Noticed what? Did Ginny even know what Hermione was talking about... Yes, there was no point in lying to herself. Not at this point..

_At first you're standing on this precipice and you know once you step off there's no going back. _

Hermione's words rang loudly in her ears, as if she had said them out loud while standing right before her.

_Oh Merlin, it's _you_ Hermione_, Ginny thought fiercely, staring at Hermione's words with a wry sadness,_ It's you... It's not Quidditch._

She remembered Hermione's words, _I don't know what you're talking about_.

Immediately Ginny felt embarrassed at the memory, just because Hermione told her that she had been with one woman didn't mean Ginny could assume that the- chemistry- between the two of them was felt on both sides. _I've never felt this way because of another woman_, she thought, _And of course when I fall for a woman that is interested in other woman she wouldn't be interested in me. _

And Harry- Ginny couldn't think about Harry.

She let her quill hang poised above the parchment, aching to write something... but not knowing what to say and somehow certain that Hermione was waiting for an answer. She closed the journal and pulled herself out of bed. It was time to go to Quidditch practice- Harry had got up and left for the Ministry an hour ago.

OOO

"Hermione?" a voice asked and Hermione yelped and jumped up from her kitchen table, looking over to see Harry's head sticking out of her fireplace.

"Harry!" Hermione said with delight, once she got over her surprise. No one had flooed her in a long time. Not while she was abroad, and not yet while being back in the country.

"Hey, Ginny's not home yet and I'm feeling lonely," Harry said, tilting his head sideways in apology.

"Well get in here then before you get all sooty," Hermione said, "I'll put on some tea."

A moment later there was a flurry of ashes and Harry stepped out of the fireplace into Hermione's little Hogsmeade apartment.

"Nice view of the castle," Harry said approvingly as he looked at the window at Hogwarts rising solemnly on the hill above the little town.

"I know," Hermione said, feeling a little proud of her apartment, "And I get to watch the students visit on weekends. Makes me feel old."

"You don't get homesick, being so close but not being a part of it?" Harry asked looking nostalgic.

"Oh, no. It's more inspiring than anything," Hermione said, glancing out the window at the castle.

The apartment was all one room, sofa, stove and cupboards, little round table, bed, bookshelves and fireplace, up above the main street of shops. And as it had been when Ginny visited, it was covered in books. Every surface had a book or more on it, intermixed with parchment (some clean, some scribbled to near blackness) and quills.

"Where do you sleep?" Harry wondered looking at the pile of books dumped unceremoniously on the full size bed.

"I'm married to books," Hermione said with grin, "They share the bed with me."

Harry grinned, "Always the same, Hermione."

Hermione set a pot of water on the stove then pulled out a chair for Harry and sat back down at her typewriter, surrounded by her notes and Grindewald's.

"How far have you gotten?" Harry asked, peering over at the typewriter.

"About halfway," Hermione said proudly glancing at the stack of typed out sheets. Harry started picking through the notes, photos, and drawings.

"These are pretty neat," Harry said, "Lucky to get such great source files..."

"Yes," Hermione agreed resting an elbow on the table, feeling that it would be awkward to type with him watching her.

His expression faltered for a moment as he pulled a photo out of the stack, "Who's this?"

"Ah," Hermione paused, _that would be Malfoy's fairly accurate guess right there_, Hermione thought.

"Is this Professor Dumbledore?" Harry turned the photograph sideways, squinting, then suddenly pushed it away from his face as the mostly naked young man waved up at with a wink.

It was a classically posed photo, Professor Dumbledore (or Albus as Hermione thought of him in that photo) on his side almost nude with soft yellow sunlight trickling in through a window to give the white sheets a gentle glow. A corner of the sheet draped over his midsection, preventing the photo from being a complete nude. He didn't have a beard yet, and his hair was only down to his ears. His long nose wasn't broken so many times, but those twinkling blue eyes were certainly Dumbledore's. They were more full of mischief and excitement at this age than the wise gaze that she remembered him having as Headmaster.

"Erm, yes," Hermione said, "Grindelwald took it as far as I can tell. It seems that they were lovers of a sort."

"Er- of a sort?" Harry asked, his face turning into a frown, "But Grindelwald was a Dark Wizard!"

_At least that's his biggest problem with their relationship_, Hermione thought, then said, "Well everyone knows they were close when they were younger, not everything Rita Skeeter wrote was complete bullshit!"

"I guess Rita missed a few things," Harry said, then ran a hand through his hair, "I can't imagine her leaving out something like this about Dumbledore."

Then he paused, thoughtful, and asked, "So they were both gay, Dumbledore was gay?"

"You don't have to label him," Hermione chided, "Especially since we can't ask Professor Dumbledore himself if he even labeled himself."

"Well, isn't this what this is? I mean how could you not label that?" Harry asked, Hermione could tell he was a little put-off by the idea.

"Well, I've been with a woman before, but I wouldn't call myself a lesbian," Hermione retorted, maybe a little too sharply.

Harry's gaze picked up immediately from the photo to Hermione's face and he asked, "Before or after you left Ron?"

"After, Harry," Hermione told him, feeling immediately hurt, "Of course after. I _never_ cheated on him and don't you dare imply it!"

Harry looked down at table avoiding the pain in her eyes, "Sorry 'mione, I just..."

"Leapt to conclusions," she finished for him with a sigh, "Yes, I suppose that is understandable. And I suppose I deserve it for springing that on you."

Harry didn't reply- a measure of his maturity. He just nodded and adjusted his glasses while staring at the table. Hermione let him be silent, let him absorb for a little while. To fill the silence she stood up and went to check the tea kettle which was still a few minutes away from boiling. When she sat back down Harry set the photo down away from himself and pulled out a chair, letting himself relax.

"So, erm," Harry began a few minutes later, "When you're done with this book, I was thinking I might start my book, you know."

"Oh brilliant, yes, have you made a layout yet?" Hermione asked and Harry's face immediately reverted back to the _I've asked Hermione for help to write an essay/study for a test but now I almost wish I hadn't because now I'm going to have to put in a lot more work._

"Nevermind, we can get to that," she revised quickly with a smile, "But start thinking about what you want in it- jot down notes if you think of something, that sort of thing. I'll probably be working on this for much the year. I was also thinking of writing a modern history book of Hogwarts, or revised, or something, with all the new information that surfaced in our seven years about the founders and the schools..."

"Hm, I keep expecting you to write more books about magical creatures' rights, but you keep surprising me," Harry said with an approving grin, fiddling with his glasses as he talked.

"It's impossible to focus on something for more than a book at a time," Hermione explained, "I'll get back to it, but once I finish a book I've usually burnt out a topic for a bit. At least, that's been the pattern so far."

There was a whistle from the stove and Hermione jumped up, having forgotten about the tea. She hurried over to the pot and removed it from the fire and poured the hot water into two . cups. Procuring two teabags, she plopped them into the cups, then carried them over to the table, shoving aside papers and old ink pots to make room to set them down.

"So how's the married life going for you?" Hermione asked as the two of them sipped quietly at their cups.

"Not too much different from unmarried life honestly," Harry admitted, "Gin's my best friend. But in some ways, when you're living with someone you don't get that joy of visiting someone you care about, and since we see each other every day we don't often make a point to spend time together outside of the house..."

Hermione thought back again to Ginny's confession in the tool shed. Was Ginny truly attracted to her, or just the idea of it- the idea of being free of marriage, free to travel, free to leave everything just as Hermione had?

"Especially since you both lead such busy lives," Hermione told him pursing her lips, feeling achingly sad for their carefree Hogwarts days. Then she mentally berated herself; they'd never been carefree in Hogwarts.

"Yes," Harry said vaguely. Hermione felt a surge of guilt- should she tell Harry about the journal?

"She's been distant towards you?" Hermione asked, knowing the answer.

Harry shrugged, "It's just different. Ever since our wedding days, things have just felt different."

"I think," Hermione started, "I think it might be me."

Harry looked up to meet her eyes, questioning, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The rift, in your relationship," Hermione explained, "I think maybe I'm distracting her, or something. We've been talking a lot and-"

"What? When do you see her?" Harry asked, Hermione could tell the unstable stress he was feeling starting to project itself as anger.

"I don't, only once or twice when you weren't there!" Hermione tried to defend herself.

"You're not-, she's not-" Harry stumbled over his words.

"No Harry!" Hermione shot back, knowing what he was trying to ask and feeling herself getting angry back at him. Wasn't this partially his fault, for not opening himself up to Ginny, for talking to _her _about all this? Was he still trying to protect her and hold her back as he'd done when they'd skipped their final year of Hogwarts to chase down Voldemort?

"You're not going behind my back?" Harry asked then shook his head, "No, of course you wouldn't. So there's nothing more than friendship between you two?"

Hermione opened her mouth but couldn't let herself lie to him, to agree to that statement wouldn't be the truth.

"Harry, I don't know exactly what's going through Ginny's mind, but maybe you should talk to her," Hermione said, collapsing back into her chair, trying not to look at him pityingly. Here she was, ripping apart all the relationships they'd held dear. First she left Ron and now she was stealing Ginny away. She should move away again, and stay away. Maybe Australia this time. Harry buried his face in his hand.

"I tried to talk to Ron but he didn't really have anything to say either," Harry mumbled, "We're both just busy, that's all..."

"Harry..." Hermione whispered.

"Don't say my name like that," Harry said fiercely, "Don't sound like you pity me, like you understand what's going on."

"Sorry," Hermione said softly then stood up and hugged him.

"Saving the world, no problem," he muttered, "Relationships, trying to hold on to the people you hold dear..."

Hermione ran a hand over his hair gently as she held him tight.

"Maybe we should never have taken the chance of having something more with those who were already our good friends," Hermione mused, "but I don't think these friendships are lost forever. People become different as they grow and learn and mature. Who we were our first year at Hogwarts, those three children will never be back."

Harry was silent, finally he pulled away his face wet from tears.

"Thanks Hermione," he whispered, "I've missed you. It's been strange without you here. I think you being gone so long really threw us all off balance. And Ron, he's been doing really good Hermione, he's almost himself again. Seeing you with him, the three of us together, the four of us, it's been so good. But Gin'..."

"Talk to her Harry," Hermione said again, "Not me..."

OOO

_Ginny, your marriage with Harry is falling apart and neither of you are talking about it. You need to work things out with him. Don't let things fall apart like I did with Ron. I'm leaving to Germany for a few months to finish my book on Grindelwald. Please don't write to me._

Ginny read the words and felt her stomach sinking. Hearing it from Hermione, made it that much more real. She couldn't just go on pretending that everything was fine, that she wasn't starting to fall for someone who wasn't her husband.

_Oh Hermione_, she thought, _the only problem is that it's not something I can fix, because there isn't anything to be fixed. The only thing left for me to save is our friendship. Ever since my and Harry's wedding, ever since I caught your eyes for the first time in a year... _

Ginny thought back to the very first kiss she and Hermione had shared, that time at Hogwarts so long ago. Ginny had never kissed anyone before and Hermione had, so clearly Hermione was the expert. Hermione kept urging her to just be herself and go out with other people but Ginny had only just been starting to get over her shyness and consider being interested in boys other than Harry.

"Tell me what's kissing like," Ginny had urged, sitting on Hermione's bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. It had only been the two of them, Hermione's dorm mates were all down in the Great Hall eating dinner.

"It's just kissing," Hermione had said dismissively, "It's not really a big deal."

"Well did you like kissing Krum?" Ginny inquired, "Was he any good at it?"

"I don't know, I suppose he was alright, I don't exactly have anyone else to compare to," Hermione said with a laugh.

Ginny had heaved a sigh, watching the older, and still taller at this point, girl. Her hair had been loose, bushing out around her shoulders, and she looked like she was pretending to be distracting, pretending to be busy with her homework.

Ginny smiled and tilted her head to the side, "Well why don't you kiss me then?"

Hermione had glanced up, startled, her face curious and questioning.

"That way my first kiss won't be some random boy that I'll end up going out with when I get bored of waiting for Harry and you'll have something to compare to! I can't help but think that kissing Krum must have been awful, and even I should be better than him!" Ginny explained her logic.

Hermione had snorted and then laughed and finally she met Ginny's eyes with a serious gaze.

"Alright," Hermione agreed when Ginny had remained silent, "Just because you're curious."

Ginny scooted closer and Hermione pushed her books away and leaned over to press her lips cautiously against the other other girl's. Ginny hadn't been anticipating anything special but she had been pleasantly surprised. She'd shut her eyes letting herself unexpectedly enjoy the quiet moment. Hermione's kissing could be described as curious, but also taken seriously. She didn't just give Ginny a quick peck on the lips to get it over with her but rather drew it out to give Ginny time to fully experience the moment. And then, Hermione had turned her head and looked back down at her homework.

"Well?" Ginny had asked, a little breathless.

"Mmm," Hermione said noncommittally.

"I think that was nice," Ginny admitted.

"Yes," Hermione had agreed, "I suppose that's why so many people do it."

"But compared to Viktor?" Ginny inquired, "I can't compare but I think that was the best first kiss I'll ever have."

Hermione laughed and glanced over at Ginny, her expression bemused, "Alright, I'll admit it, that was better than Viktor."

Ginny punched the air, "I knew it!"

And then the topic had turned back to school work and Hermione had helped Ginny with the rest of her Transfiguration homework while also managing to work on her own Charms paper at the same time.

Ginny started to write a reply to Hermione's response.

_Hermione, please don't leave. Or at least if you do leave, promise you'll be back before the year is out. Mum was going to invite you to Christmas dinner, so you must be back for the Holidays at least. Promise me? And I promise to talk to Harry._

She didn't write that she wasn't promising to fix their marriage, wasn't promising that she was going to love Harry and be his wife for the rest of her life...  
She shut the journal, Hermione had asked her not to write so she would leave it at that. But she knew she would miss Hermione's words.

**A/N: Sorry this one is a little shorter. Hope you enjoy. **


	7. So Kiss Me

_Four months later..._

Hermione felt like a complete outcast as she apparated in front of the Burrow. There were two people, two Weasleys, inside that house that she had wronged. Of course, she really shouldn't have run away. The only thing drawing her back this time though was her promise to Ginny, she could at least keep that. She took a deep breath, consoling herself that at least Molly Weasley didn't know about... whatever had passed between her and Ginny. Maybe things would even be better this time?

Hermione pushed open the gate and walked through the yard, heading for the door. She hesitated again before the door, but quickly knocked once and pushed open the door. Immediately, she was assaulted with warmth and delicious smells, and she felt almost immediately better.

"Hey Hermione," Bill Weasley said with an easy smile, appearing to greet the arrival. Molly was in the kitchen with Ginny Hermione noted, as Bill turned his attention back to the pie crusts. She could hear Ron and Harry's voices in the living and her stomach tightened. How had she managed to come so close to ruining all of her closest relationships?

She had dumped one of them, and potentially broken up the marriage of the other. She hadn't been in contact with anyone in the four months she was away, not Harry, not Ginny, not Ron...

"Hermione!" Ginny said with a squeal and suddenly Hermione's arms were full with the forceful hug that Ginny wrapped her in.

She returned the hug, trying not to read into anything, and then pulled away to look at Ginny. Their eyes met and Hermione knew immediately that the time apart had not changed the chemistry between the two of them. Hermione held her breath trying not to let Ginny break her composure in those few seconds before Ginny turned her head aside.

"'Mione's here!" she yelled back into the living room. Hermione shook off the feeling that Ginny had been searching for something when she'd met her gaze.

Hermione moved through the kitchen to meet Harry and Ron's hugs. Harry's quick and tight, Ron's a quick touch and a step back. Would Harry be here if he and Ginny had broken up? Hermione wasn't sure. She glanced back- but Ginny had returned to the kitchen.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said with a smile. Did it look a little sad?

Behind the boys the chess set was out; they were clearly midway through a game. And that little image, suddenly made her feel like crying. It was like old times, back when they were still in school, back before Harry had married Ginny and she and Ron had broken up.

"Who's winning?" Hermione asked, looking at Ron.

The boy- well young man, now, look sheepish and ran a hand through his ear length red hair, "Harry, actually. He's been practicing, I guess."

Harry looked inordinately smug, and Hermione gave him a smile. She sat down on the sofa beside Ron and watched as they resumed their game. It was frequently interrupted- by Charlie, coming to give Ron advice- by Percy, bugging Ron to start setting the tables for Christmas dinner- by Molly, coming over to shove Christmas cookies in everyone's hands- by Arthur, blatantly ignoring the game and trying to engage Harry and Ron in conversation about whether or not any of the Aurors would be interested in investigating the use of muggle weapons-

George was the first to address her personally, inquiring about her thoughts a few of his new joke shop inventions that he couldn't get Ron to pay attention to while engaged in a game. And with that she too was pulled in the dynamic Weasley family; eventually Molly recruited both her and George into the kitchen where it took all of Hermione's attention to avoid brushing against Ginny's arm, her hip, her fingers as they passed food across to one another.

Hermione watched, at dinner, as Arthur and Molly pointed everyone to their seats. She felt an odd prickle on the back of her neck as Harry was seated on the opposite end of the table from Ginny, and that their eyes just barely didn't meet. Molly placed her right next to Harry, and she suddenly realized, looking at him pick up his napkin and adjust his fork and knife, that she hadn't even thought to see if he was still wearing a wedding ring. His left hand came up again, picking up his glass so that Charlie could fill it with butterbeer. The hand was empty. Maybe she was just so used to _not_ seeing it that its absence hadn't seemed odd.

Maybe he wasn't wearing it because it needed polishing, or something. She looked over at Ginny, but the younger girl had her hands under the table.  
A lump formed in her stomach as she thought of the two of them separated, or divorced, because she couldn't deny that she may have played a part. Ginny seemed well, though, and happy, and so did Harry, though perhaps less so than Ginny.

_But I didn't actually _do_ anything_, Hermione's thoughts protested_, I even actively avoided taking chances to kiss her... _

OOO

When Ginny heard Bill's voice greet Hermione it was all she could do to not immediately run to the other girl, instead she made herself wait a moment, let Hermione step inside and look around before the bubble of joy welled up inside of her and sent her over to tightly embrace the other girl. Even though it'd only been four months this time it felt like another year had past. Her happiness overpowered the anger she'd previously felt at Hermione for running away and she'd stepped back to examine Hermione's face, forcing herself to drop her arms to her sides and not hold on to the other girl's hands. Now that she'd left Harry, was there any chance at finding something more with Hermione? She couldn't tell, not just through Hermione's face, anyway.

She bit her lip and turned her head to announce to Harry and Ron that Hermione was here and let Hermione be towed into the living room, away from the girl that Hermione had somehow completely enchanted, perhaps re-enchanted, ever since that moment when her own soft brown eyes had seen Hermione's bright ones on the day of her wedding to Harry.

Harry...

It hadn't been easy, leaving him, but at least the two of them had managed to do it with the least amount of drama and anger. Afterwards they'd ended up in each other's arms, crying at the loss of a dream they'd both shared but failed to turn into reality.

When Hermione had disappeared again Ginny had attempted to throw herself back into her work but her promise to talk to Harry kept digging at her, and eventually it was Harry who brought it up first, one week later.

"Gin, we need to talk," he said when she'd come downstairs drawn by the smell of home cooked breakfast. He'd put down a plate with bacon and eggs and let her finish eating before pouring her and himself a cup of coffee and sitting down across from her.

"What's going on?" he asked then faltered, "No, I shouldn't put all the pressure on you like that. Things have changed between us."

"Yes," Ginny agreed, her voice a whisper, her heart pounding, then, "Except, I think that it's always been this way. You're a good person, Harry. My best friend."

Harry nodded and looked down, aware of the implications of her words, "You're mine too 'Gin. I love you. I thought that you loved me too."

Ginny felt her head shaking slowly, "I... don't really know anymore."

Harry heaved a huge sigh and she looked over at him, and immediately felt terrible to see the tears glistening in his eyes. She wanted to go over and comfort him, but somehow that seem hypocritical to do while having this conversation.

"Don't know?" Harry pressed a moment later, clearing working at holding back his grief.

"I mean... I do love you Harry, of course I do, but I'm not- maybe I'm just not _in _love with you," Ginny tried to explain.

"What's the difference?" Harry asked, raising his voice a little.

Ginny stared at him helplessly for a moment and then said, "I love a lot of people in this world, Harry, but I'm not _in_ love with most of them."

"Any of them?" Harry asked, his eyes flashing for a moment, but then he shook his head, "Wait, I don't want to know that right now."

"But you see that there's a difference," Ginny said.

Harry nodded, frowned, then said, "Was it getting married? Did we do it too soon?"

Ginny shook her head, feeling even worse, and said, "I don't think I've ever really been in love with you... I think... I mean you were my first crush... and I think I confused that with love for a long time... Then when I got to really know you... we just... we _are_ best friends, Harry, that's real."

"Except that I don't love you like a friend, Gin," Harry said softly

"Do you know that?" Ginny asked back.

"Hey don't try and make this two sided," Harry said, "I love you. I meant it when I asked you to marry me and spend the rest of our lives together."

He paused, then asked, "Is that gone? Is there any chance of... you really loving me?"

Ginny bit her lip, feeling the tears burn up in her eyes as she said, "No... I don't think so, Harry."

They went on like that for almost two hours until not even Ginny was sure of what she felt. Sure of what the difference between loving a friend and loving someone more was. Of how to tell if there was such as thing as staying in love or if they had what most could only hope for, a friendship between two people who were comfortable sharing their bodies with each other. Or was there something missing in their relationship? Maybe Harry only didn't know because Ginny was the first real relationship he'd ever had, maybe Ginny was only doubting in their relationship because of her unmentionable attraction to Hermione Granger, which also would fade into a quiet friendship given time. Given that she never acknowledged it anymore than she already had.

Her head spinning she finally left for quidditch practice, letting herself work herself into a state of numbness where all the ambivalence fading into nothing, until she felt nothing. It was late when she came back to their house again.

Harry was already curled up in bed and she slid in next to him, pausing to look at his peaceful face.

"I love you," she whispered, letting the tears trickle down her cheeks.

His eyes flickered open, full of sorrow and he eased himself into a sitting position in the darkness of the room, lit with the soft pale glow of the moonlight.

"I want to give you everything I have Harry, and I promise that I will always be there for you. But I can't give you all of myself, not now, not if I haven't already," Ginny breathed. Harry took his time responding.

"Maybe that's my fault," Harry admitted and was silent for a moment before breathing, "I've been thinking, my head's been going in circles all day and it always goes back to how I tried to protect you by leaving you when we first got together, how I took back my love for you in order to keep you safe. But maybe I was just fooling myself- it was _me_ all along that I was trying to protect. Trying to protect my own heart from ever having to break, I never gave you a chance did I Ginny? I ruined it all those years ago... I never gave you everything either..."

"Maybe," Ginny said- she'd never thought about it that way.

"I guess this means we're over, then," Harry said.

"Yeah," she said, laying down in her Quidditch robes, "I guess."

"I think..." Harry said, his voice still weak from crying, "I think if we're going to be over we should really be over. This kind of confusion... I think maybe it's better to cut it off rather than let it fester. So let's... let's not look back, okay? I don't want you to come back a few weeks from now crying that you really are in love with me because I'll probably believe you- but what if you change your mind again? I couldn't handle that. If this is it, then it's really done. And maybe if this was the real thing... and we find out later that all relationships eventually settle down into this... Well..."

He choked up again, and Ginny finished.

"Then that's life and we've learned," she whispered, "but I think that the same way you can only feel true happiness is to have first experienced true misery. To truly love someone you have to first let your heart be broken... I'll also value what we have Harry, friends forever?"

"Yes," Harry whispered letting the tears flow freely again and Ginny wrapped her arms around him, curled up with his back to her as she buried her face against him, letting his shirt absorb her own sorrow.

The next morning Ginny felt miserable. She felt like she was making the worst mistake of her life, and as they ate breakfast silently together, all she wanted to do was hold him tight and kiss him and tell him that she would never let him go and that she really was in love with him. But she didn't. Harry helped her pack up her things, and within a few hours she was walking out of the house, giving Harry a last hug and kiss on the cheek, and Apparating to PERSON ON TEAM!'s house.

By the end of the month she and Harry were speaking again and things were almost normal. And her last doubts about her decision slowly disappeared as she found it easier to enjoy Harry's company without the pressure of having to give him special attention. It was that pressure in the end that had kept her late at work, kept her away from that little house that truly had been binding her in.

These feelings helped her beat back the ache inside her that missed Harry every night that she spent alone, made her realize that the ache was loneliness- it wasn't a sign that she was really in love with Harry. If you love someone when you don't have them, and don't want them when you do, then it's not love.  
But also made her start to value the times they were together, they started out just getting coffee, with Ron included until things relaxed enough between her and Harry that she could hug him without worrying that she was implying they should get back together. Harry seemed to go through the same thing and finally they'd gone over to Hogsmeade for an afternoon just the two of them and agreed to not be awkward with each other and that they could hug each other anytime they wanted without feeling uncomfortable.

By the time fall had passed and the leaves had well settled into the ground she had moved into a house with two of her other teammates in a wizarding village near SOMEWHERE. By the time Thanksgiving crept by she found herself feeling well and truly relaxed and content for the first time in years. But someone was still missing.

OOO

This was all going through Ginny's mind as she watched Hermione at the table at dinner, talking to Harry. The back of her neck tingled every time she felt Hermione's glance over at her. Little bubbles of joy and anxiety alternatively rose up in her, these feelings that she'd almost managed to shove away when Hermione left that so forcefully reasserted themselves with a passion know that the real Hermione was back again. Dinner couldn't be over fast enough, though Ginny tried to make herself really pay attention and enjoy the celebration with her family. She did managed to not think about Hermione for a few minutes when George made the Christmas pudding explode into feathers which settled on everyone's plates and then returned back to pudding in soft feather shaped globs, evenly divided between the family members.

But it was later that evening, as everyone had settled down in the living room, that Ginny pulled out the journal. She didn't know if Hermione had hers on her, but she knew that Hermione would recognize her copy, at least.

_Harry and I are separated, if you haven't guessed that already_. She wrote and looked up to see Hermione watching her. She gave Hermione a pointed look.  
Hermione paused then gave a bemused smile, the same smile she'd given Ginny that time they'd kissed in their earlier years at Hogwarts. Ginny watched as she stood up and left the living room. She reappeared with her own journal in hand. Ginny watched as she sat down and opened it, then held her breath dizzily, feeling shaky and nervously happy as Hermione started writing in a reply.

_I suspected... should I apologize?_

Apologize? Ginny was momentarily confused then her heart leapt as she realized it might mean that Hermione recognized that there had been something between them, and felt this had caused the rift between her and Harry. That might be the closest thing to an acknowledgement of what they had between them that Ginny would ever get.

_No, don't. _she let her quill blot on the page as she tried to figure out what to say next.

_It's isn't your fault, of course. I realized that I wasn't really in love with him,_ Ginny wrote, afraid to say more.

_So it wasn't anything that I did?_

Ginny froze, and risked a glance over at Hermione, but the woman was staring resolutely at the journal.

_Hermione, this- ever since you got back from being gone for a year, ever since I met your eyes when you showed up at my wedding, it's like, I'm standing on the edge. _

Hermione's quill writing suddenly jaggedly interrupted Ginny's own.

_Tell me this in person. I'm sick of these journals, this passive communication. I don't want to play games._

Ginny saw Hermione start to shut the journal and scrawled hurriedly, _Wait, it's not a game, I can do this! I just need to talk to you._

_So __talk__ to me, _Hermione scribbled back, her handwriting hurried and different from her usual neat script, talk written in larger letters.

_I want to kiss you, _Ginny added, not sure what that meant in terms of Hermione's feelings.

_So KISS ME!_

Ginny looked up as Hermione slammed shut the journal and dropped her quill. Their eyes met, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ginny swallowed, her mouth dry, her stomach queasy. She'd never felt less capable of kissing someone.

She felt almost felt nauseous when Hermione stood up casually and walked through the kitchen and outside, just as nonchalantly as if she'd only just thought to go get a breath of fresh air.

OOO

Hermione shivered as she stepped out into a gust of cold, snowy air. Maybe outside wasn't the best idea... but it was the only place she could be sure of getting alone with Ginny. Her fingers were shaking too- but they'd been shaking ever since she started writing back in the journal to Ginny- ever since she'd seen those words written on the page. _I want to kiss you_. She'd broken up with Harry- she still wanted to kiss her...

She heard Ginny's quiet footsteps behind her and turned around to say something, in hindsight she would never remember what exactly it was she was planning on saying, but when she saw Ginny, her brown eyes curious and uncertain, her cheeks red from being by the fire, the snowflakes just starting to settle in her hair and it was impossible not to kiss her.

Hermione didn't even try to stop herself from moving towards the girl and pushing her back against the side of the house, cupping her face in her hands, to force her lips against Ginny's the way she'd wanted to for so long now. She didn't think she could feel any more desire until she felt Ginny's hands tighten on her sides, fingernails digging in through her sweater, felt Ginny pushing herself back against Hermione, her breathing ragged.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione said, kissing Ginny's neck, then, "What happened to talking?"

"No talking," Ginny whispered hoarsely, "I changed my mind."

And then Ginny's soft lips were on hers again and Hermione felt like she was about to drown, it seemed impossible that this could go on, that her body could hold such electricity, such emotions, without being swamped. If Ginny's arms hadn't been around her, holding her so tightly she was sure he knees would have given out.

There was a creak as the door started to open and they leapt away from each other awkwardly. George poked his head out and said, "Hey- we're thinking of all doing firecrackers together, if you want to come back inside?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, her voice a little high, "We'll be right there."

George shut the door again and Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, feeling even colder where their bodies had too recently been pressed together. Ginny closed the gap again, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist and looking into her eyes.

"So... I suppose we have to go back inside," Ginny whispered, marveling that Hermione was letting her be this close.

"Oh!" Hermione said, "Er- right. Yes."

Ginny was amused to see that Hermione looked completely uncomposed, looking like she hadn't quite heard what Ginny said.

"So I wasn't just imagining things then?" Ginny mused in Hermione's ear, her soft breath sending shivers up and down Hermione's body.

"Imagining what?" Hermione asked, then turned her head and caught Ginny's lips again for a long kiss, "This?"

"Mmm... yes, you were so composed, like you had no idea, the effect you could have me," Ginny told her in a staggered, interrupted, fashion because Hermione had tilted her head to kiss her teasingly on the neck, causing Ginny to repeatedly lose her train of thought.

Hermione kissed her again passionately and murmured, "You're damn lucky I didn't about rape you in the toolshed."

Thinking back to those moments in combination with Hermione's gentle kisses now was just about enough to drive Ginny crazy and she tightened her fingers around Hermione's hips again letting her thumbs push against the line of Hermione's hip bones, letting them trail down...

Hermione rewarded Ginny's touches with a light gasp and then kissed her again more forcefully, nipping gently at Ginny's lower lip before gently stepping back.

"I do remember being invited inside for firecrackers," Hermione told Ginny.

"Firecrackers, I don't think I'm going to be able to think straight for days," Ginny admitted, "It's probably not safe to put one of those in my hands."

"I'll make sure you don't hurt yourself," Hermione assured her, "I have a vested interest to make sure you stay in one piece."

Those words sent another delightful shiver down Ginny's back and the two of them, with great self-control, forced themselves to step back inside to the warm firelit glow.

**A/N: Ahh I feel like its been forever since I last updated. Maybe it's only been a week? I'm not sure, been very busy lately and that makes time slow down. Only one more chapter after this one!**


	8. The End

Harry, after having a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, found himself wandering around the (mostly) Muggle London. It was a Friday night; Ron was at a chess tournament and there really wasn't anyone else Harry felt like spending the evening with. So he just went to the Leaky Cauldron, found it empty, and wandered out to see what there was to see.

He glanced down a side street and saw a brightly lit sign flashing- but it wasn't Muggle neon lights. He squinted. No, it was actually giant glowing yellow bees flying around the sign. A Wizarding establishment? Here? Harry started walking down the little street and looked up at the sign from a few stores away. _Bees N' Bees_, it read, while the enchanted Bees buzzed around it. It was an odd name for a bar, but Wizards were odd people, so Harry glanced inside the open door. There was enough people inside, and all clearly Witches or Wizards, that Harry felt he could probably lose himself in the crowd. So he went in.

"Well well well, you too Potter?" a familiar voice drawled, "Granger send you here?"

"Hermione comes here?" he asked as he spun around, too surprised to come up with some witty reply to the familiar voice of his rival.  
Draco Malfoy was sitting a little bar table just behind him, sipping at a bright green drink.

"Hm, guess she doesn't tell you everything, maybe you don't know?" Malfoy wondered, looking superior as he lifted his drink up to his lips.

"Don't know _what_?" Harry asked, getting angry. He and Malfoy had sort of formed an uneasy truce after the events in their 7th year, but they hadn't really had a conversation. Their first one, it seemed, wasn't going very well.

"How's Ginny doing?" Malfoy asked, avoiding the answer.

Harry frowned angrily, what did Malfoy know about him and Ginny, or Ginny and Hermione for that matter? Did Hermione talk to Malfoy?

"Oh come on Potter, don't tell me you didn't read the name of this bar?" Malfoy asked, taking a long sip of his drink. Harry frowned- was that Muggle Absinthe?

"I know that Ginny is with Hermione if that's what you're going on about," Harry said frustrated, "I'm not an idiot and I am their friend. And I don't see what business it is of _yours_."

He felt an odd triumph as it was Malfoy's turn to look surprised, finally saying, "Oh. Well good for her."

Harry felt even more confused at this obscure reply, "What?"

"Oh, I ran into Granger a few times last summer in here," Malfoy said casually, "We had a few chats. Haven't seen her in a while though."  
Harry found this hard to believe, but Malfoy said it so nonchalantly that he supposed it had to be true and Harry wondered briefly if maybe Malfoy was gay. Was this a gay bar? Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered seeing an article in the Daily Prophet about the Malfoy heir 'coming out'. He hadn't read it, but perhaps that meant coming out as a gay person?

He found himself oddly intrigued as Malfoy continued to stare unabashedly straight at him, while continuing to take polite sips of his drink.  
Draco Malfoy suddenly raised an eyebrow at Harry's change in expression, then said, "Hey Potter... why don't I buy you a drink and we catch up? Like old times, right? I hear you're writing a book about... all that happened. I think I might be a good source for you."

Harry blushed, feeling that the two of them talking together here was somehow inappropriate but also curious to know what the heir of Malfoy was doing these days. So he shrugged, then nodded, and sat down. Malfoy waved over a waiter, and Harry proceeded to let Malfoy get him very drunk.

**A/N: Just a short little ending to sum things up with Harry! Hope everyone enjoyed. THE END. **


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